


I NEED A HERO! (but not you, the other guy)

by LaDemonessa



Series: The "Jen is Pissed" Collection [4]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen, Jen is Pissed, Tommy deserved better, Tommy is alive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-26 15:41:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 83,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7580059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaDemonessa/pseuds/LaDemonessa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following several Flommy-positive comments Colin Donnell made during a con (along with hints of not-so-positive Merlance comments), some helpful Laurel fans on Tumblr recently explained to me that the only reason Tommy died was because he was jealous of Oliver. See, according to them, the reason Laurel was able to shake off her grief and jump Oliver so quickly following Tommy’s death was because Laurel didn’t ask Tommy to save her, nor did she need or want him to save her. Instead Oliver was supposed to be the one who saved her but, in a fit of jealousy, selfish Tommy tried to steal Oliver’s thunder and wound up getting himself killed because he was stupid and he wasn’t the ‘saint’ we make him out to be.</p><p>Okay, well, I couldn’t resist that so I wrote this.</p><p>Instead of running into a collapsing building to save Laurel, Tommy decides to put aside his jealousy and let Oliver save the day instead.</p><p>…of course, if you’ll recall, Oliver was too late to save Tommy much less Laurel but, who knows? Maybe he’ll be on time for once.</p><p>(Spoiler Alert: No, no he won’t.)</p><p>A really fucking mean installment of the Jen is Pissed Collection. Read at your own risk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Do I Look Like A Firefighter To You?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [juliesioux](https://archiveofourown.org/users/juliesioux/gifts).



> If you are returning to this story, assuming it's back up, you'll notice that the notes have changed. This is because I recently received an email from AO3's harassment committee saying that two of the people I gifted this work to felt bullied by my comments and by my gifting of this work to them. 
> 
> Now, the comments in the notes they objected to were direct quotes sent to me when they trolled me on Tumblr. Not naming names because this bullshit has pissed me off enough today, but this person regularly trolls Olicity and Felicity writers only, this time, she was spewing bile about Tommy. When I reposted her quotes in my notes, she turned me into admin who hid this work under the threat of deletion until I changed my notes.
> 
> Well, they're changed.
> 
> I spent three days waiting for a response before finally sending a strongly worded email accusing the admin of censorship. After three days of nothing, 11 minutes after sending that I get a terse email from this same admin saying my work is back up and reminding me that I agreed to their terms then made sure to tell me my appeal was denied and that my 'violation' would be noted in my file.
> 
> Ask me if I care.
> 
> I sent another email saying that, while I agreed to their 'terms' I did not agree to censorship. If anyone wants to see the emails then they will be made available to you. And given the email I sent to her in response, I may very well get banned anyway but, you know what? The point of writing is the free flow of opinions, creativity, and freedom of speech. If I get banned for expressing my opinion or writing the truth then ban me, I don't care. I'd rather have all of my works locked down then live with that on my conscience.
> 
> If that ever does happen though, feel free to email me at thedemonofmischief@gmail.com or find my work on ff.net at https://www.fanfiction.net/~lademonessa
> 
> And if any administrators are reading this in preparation to delete my works, let me remind you that we left ff.net because they were deleting works they felt were of a 'controversial nature', meaning slash because while straight people can screw their brains out without impunity, gay sex is too 'dirty'. The point of AO3 was to get away from the rampant censorship of ff.net. If all you people are doing is more of the same then what's the point?
> 
> Let's see how long this one stays up.

Tommy stumbled through the rubble as the aftershocks shook the pavement under his feet only to be saved from a nasty fall by a teenager in a dirty red hoodie.

The teenager looked at him in concern, “You okay, man?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Tommy looked at the guy, “Wait, you’re Roy, right? You’re a friend of Thea’s, you work at my club. Well, my _former_ club,” he added with a grimace.

“As a busboy, yeah. Did the club get destroyed, too?” Roy asked in trepidation. 

“I don’t know, I don’t think so,” Tommy said grimly. “Who the hell knows, but last I heard it was still okay.”

“Thank God,” Roy sighed. “I really need that job, you know. Of course, even if the club is okay that won’t mean much if the rest of the Glades goes up in smoke,” he said wryly before looking towards Tommy again, “What are you doing out here anyway? I figured you’d be all the way on the other side of town with the rest of the richies where it’s safe?”

“I’m checking on someone, and I’m not rich anymore. Malcolm cut me off months ago and my apartment is just around the corner on Adams and Papp,” he said as he looked at the people running around in various states of panic. 

“You live in the Glades?” Roy asked in surprise.

“It was the only thing I could afford after my-- _Malcolm_ \--“ he bit out unable to refer to that son of a bitch as his father after seeing the destruction all around them, “cut me off then kicked me out of his place. Plus, it was close to the club, but then I lost, or rather _quit_ that, too, so, yeah; you’re not the only one who’s going to be hunting for a new job. That is if we survive all this,” he said looking around at the chaos surrounding them. The air was thick with smoke and the smell of burning insulation and wood. Meanwhile he had to practically shout to be heard over the clamor of screams and sirens even though the other man was only a couple of feet away. “I don’t even want to think about what it’s going to be like looking for a job after all this. I’m pretty sure any potential employers are going to take one look at my name and…” he shook his head, suddenly feeling a wave of guilt for even thinking about looking for a job given the fact that people were dying because his father decided to basically burn down the city. 

That was a concern for another time, he reminded himself. While being able to feed himself and afford a decent place to live were important, he’d figure it out somehow. Right now though, he had to find Laurel.

“But weren’t you supposed to be living with your rich girlfriend or something?” Roy asked as though reading his mind.

“She wasn’t rich, and no,” he said with a hint of bitterness. “I would stay over there a lot but then we broke up a few weeks ago and I needed someplace to live so I took what I could get.”

And what he could get was a one bedroom apartment in a rundown but still decent apartment complex just outside the Glades Industrial Park in Wriggleyville. How much longer he’d be able to afford his rent though was another matter altogether.

Again, unemployed and the son of a domestic terrorist; even if he could manage to make the rent and his building was still standing after all this, he was pretty sure that was reasonable cause to have someone evicted. 

Hey!” he called out to one of the interns he recognized, “Uh, Dave! Hey, over here!” he shouted before turning to Roy again, “Is everybody out of the building?” Tommy asked. “I don’t see Laurel anywhere?”

“You’re here looking for Laurel?” the hoodie guy—Roy, asked curiously. 

“Yeah, is she okay?” he asked anxiously.

“I don’t know, I just got here,” the kid shrugged. “I was actually coming here to meet her because she’s my lawyer and I have court next week.” He paused, “That is if the court house is still there. If it isn’t then maybe they’ll toss my case?” he mused hopefully. 

“Well, there’s a silver lining for you. My old man tries to kill thousands of people but at least all the purse snatchers, gangbangers, and low level scumbags will get a free pass,” Tommy mumbled under his breath. 

“Huh?” Roy squinted at him. “I can’t hear you,” he said in a slightly louder voice as he gestured at the chaos all around them.

“I asked if this was about the purse snatching thing” Tommy said neutrally as he looked over the crowds of people that surrounded them once more. “I thought Thea dropped that?”

“She did but this is for…other stuff,” Roy flushed with embarrassment. “Anyway,” he said after clearing his throat, “I’m sure she’s fine. I mean, her dad is a cop, right? He probably made sure she got out first thing.”

“Yeah, you obviously don’t know Laurel,” Tommy grumbled. “She does what she wants to do which, nine times out of ten, is pretty much the exact opposite of whatever her old man or anyone else tells her to do. Dave!” he shouted again as he waved his arms to get the intern’s attention.

“It’s Melvin, actually,” the skinny guy said as he approached, brushing off his dusty khakis as he adjusted his thickly framed glasses nervously. 

“Sorry, you just look like a Dave to me,” Tommy apologized.

“Yeah, I get that a lot. You’re Tommy Merlyn, right?” Dave—Melvin--whatever his name was, asked.

“Uh yeah, but I didn’t have anything to do with this shit,” he said in a combination of shame and disgust. “This is all on that son of a bitch, Malcolm; not on me.”

“I get it,” Roy said with a sympathetic look. “My old man was a piece of shit, too. Only…he didn’t try to level the Glades, he just used to get drunk off his ass then took off with some girl he knocked up but not before stealing my mom’s car,” he said reluctantly. 

“Yeah, well, Malcolm is definitely a special kind of asshole, that’s for sure. Anyway, uh, Dave—“

“It’s Melvin,” the guy corrected him again.

“Sorry,” Tommy apologized, “Did Laurel get out of the building with everyone else?”

The guy gave him an uncomfortable look before answering, “You’re looking for Laurel?”

“Yeah,” he said slowly, “Where is she?”

Melvin eyed him uncertainly, “Why are you looking for Laurel?”

“There’s a fucking earthquake tearing the Glades apart and I want to make sure she’s okay! Why the hell else would I be here?” Tommy burst out.

“Well, yeah, but I just figured what with the thing on YouTube…” Melvin said uneasily.

Tommy looked at him in consternation, “What thing on YouTube?”

“Never mind,” the other man said quickly.

Roy grinned broadly and pointed at the other man as he bobbed his chin knowingly, “Oh yeah; I saw that! It was _hot_.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Tommy demanded looking between the two men.

“Oh, it was this video some dude took of Laurel and Thea’s brother fu--” Roy stopped suddenly and gulped as Tommy shot him a deadly glare. “Dave’s right; never mind.”

“It’s Melvin,” the other man corrected them once more.

“Look, did Laurel get out of the building or what?” Tommy demanded with a scowl.

“Yes, she did,” Melvin told him, nodding his head, “She _definitely_ got out of the building with everyone else.” 

Tommy breathed a sigh of relief at that, “Good. Oh thank God.”

“A couple of times, in fact, but then she…um, ran back in again,” Melvin added quickly.

“What?” both Roy and Tommy burst out.

“What do you mean? Are you saying she ran into the building more than once?” Tommy asked incredulously.

“Three times actually.” 

Tommy’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief, “Three times?” 

“Yeah, or maybe it was four times?” Melvin said slowly. “I don’t know; it was a bunch and there was a lot of shouting and cursing going on. She kept trying to go inside and the fire chief kept having them drag her back out,” he shrugged. “Then, after they left the last time, she went back in. That was about five minutes ago.”

“Why would she do something that stupid?” Roy asked, “The fucking building is on fire and the roof is collapsing!”

“My thoughts exactly,” Tommy said stripping off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves as he prepared to go inside. “Was someone else trapped in there? Her dad?” He looked around for one of the firemen and waved to get his attention, “Hey!” As the firefighter approached, he pointed towards the building, “There’s still people in there!”

“No there isn’t, we cleared that building first thing,” the fireman told him. 

“According to Dave here—“

“Melvin,” Roy reminded him.

“Thank you,” Melvin muttered.

“Melvin,” Tommy corrected himself, “Laurel Lance is still in there along with a few other people.”

“Actually no,” Melvin interrupted him, “The only person in the building is Ms. Lance.”

“No, I cleared that building myself,” the fireman insisted. “The last time Ms. Lance insisted on going back in the building, I warned her we might have to take that building down to serve as a firebreak and that the foundation and roof were badly compromised and could collapse at any minute.”

“Well, she went in anyway,” Melvin shrugged. “I tried stopping her! I told her what you said about having her arrested if she tried going back in, but--!”

Tommy scowled, worry and anger causing his tone to sharpen, “Why would she go inside the building if she knew these guys were planning on tearing it down?” 

“She, um, wanted to get some files,” Melvin said weakly.

“Files?” 

This time three voices rang out simultaneously; Tommy’s, Roy’s, and that of the firefighter. 

“More files actually.” Melvin pointed to the stacks of file boxes sitting in the parking lot. “She’d already gotten a bunch of them but she wanted to make sure she had her personal notes and stuff, too.”

“Are you telling me that crazy lawyer chick ran into a burning building, risking not only her life but the lives of my men who I’m going to have to send in after her— _again_ \--over _***files***_?” the firefighter growled.

“Well, not just her files,” Melvin corrected himself. “She also needed to go back inside for her purse and her dry cleaning.” He scowled, “She got really abusive with me over that, too. I mean, she said, _‘Grab the boxes’_. She didn’t say, _‘Go into my office and grab my dry cleaning, too’_.” He grimaced, “Anyway, she told me to go back inside and get them but, after the Chief threatened to arrest us, I told her it was a bad idea and she called me a--” his mouth tightened in annoyance, “An ‘infantile fuckwit with no balls and less brains’ then told me to stay out here and guard the boxes while she did it herself which is why I’m still here standing in the middle of ground zero during an earthquake instead of in a shelter or something where it’s safe. Well, relatively safe,” he added glancing around at the pandemonium that surrounded them. 

“Unbelievable!” Tommy growled running his fingers through his hair in aggravation. “Fuck!”

“In her defense though, they are pretty important files,” Melvin admitted reluctantly. “All of her pending cases and the discovery files from the DA’s office. She probably could’ve lived without her dry cleaning though.”

“Not that I’m saying all that… _’stuff’_ isn’t important, but don’t you guys have like thumb drives, or disks, or the Cloud, or something?” Roy asked uncertainly. “I mean, I’m not a tech guy and I don’t know how that stuff works, but if I can save my playlist to the Cloud can’t you guys save all that lawyer shit to it, too?”

“They have the Cloud,” Tommy said irritably. “They also have back up servers off-site. I made sure of that when I donated the computers. I even hired them the same IT person who set all that up for the club! All the files are automatically uploaded to the secure servers at Wethersby & Stone which is all the way across town where it’s safe! Why the hell would she go back in there when she knew those files were just a click away?”

“I told her that but not all of the files had been uploaded yet, and she said she had her notes and, um…other stuff,” Melvin broke off sheepishly. “Also, like I said, she also went back in for the discovery files which aren’t on our servers; those are hard copies only.”

Roy raised an eyebrow at that, “Couldn’t the DA just email them or run off some more copies or something?” 

“Well, yeah…” the other man admitted reluctantly. “But it would take a while though because the ADA’s are kind of jerks when it comes to resending files and she didn’t want to have to go through all that when they were _right there_ ; her words, not mine.” 

“Why didn’t you try to stop her?” Tommy demanded angrily.

“I did try to stop her!” Melvin said defensively, “but then, in addition to calling me a—what she called me,” he said clearing his throat, “she called me an ‘idiot’ and threatened to kick me in the…” he glanced down at the front of his khakis and winced.

“You have to go in there after her,” Tommy insisted, turning to the fireman.

“Goddamn it,” the other man sighed before calling over one of the other firemen, “Hey Chief!”

“Johnson, what the hell are you doing over here shootin’ the shit when you’re supposed to be puttin’ out fires and workin’ search and rescue?” the older man demanded gruffly as he approached.

“You remember that lawyer chick who wanted to go back in the building?” Johnson asked with a tense expression.

“That asshole Lance’s kid? Yeah,” the Chief said with a scowl. “Last time I warned her I’d put my foot up her bony ass if she tried going back in that building again, she tried telling me she’d file a lawsuit if I didn’t get out of her way. I told her that if she took so much as a step in that direction, not only would she be sitting funny for a month, but I’d have her handcuffed to the goddamn truck!”

“That’s when Ms. Lance started saying she’d have her dad arrest him for threatening her with bodily harm as well as sexual harassment because he talked about putting things up her, um… _backside_ ,” Melvin said with an uncomfortable expression.

“And I told her I don’t give a shit who her daddy is; I’ve known Quentin Lance since he first came out of the academy and he was an asshole then, and he’s an asshole now! And, in this situation, his badge doesn’t mean shit!” he said forcefully. “Quentin Lance can keep his drunken ass across the bridge where he belongs and worry about directin’ traffic, or issuing jaywalkin’ tickets, or whatever the hell he and the rest of his uni’s are doing over in Orchid Bay ‘cause they sure as hell ain’t here with us puttin’ out fires and diggin’ people out of the rubble! I may ‘just’ be a leather lung, and Lance might be some kind of super cop accordin’ to that daughter of his, but _I’m_ still the Emergency Operations Officer for this zone, meaning I’m in charge, and the only person with the authority to countermand me during a citywide crisis is the goddamn governor!” he snarled, his cheeks ruddy with anger. “As far as I’m concerned they can both kiss my ever lovin’ ass with that sexual harassment shit! If she doesn’t want me talkin’ about her bony ass and how it’s gonna feel when I stuff my size thirteen boot up it, then she better keep it and herself out of my way! Why?” he asked, turning a baleful eye towards his colleague, “She still bitchin’ and moanin’ about not bein’ allowed back in? I don’t have time for this shit! I got a whole city in crisis here! Did you tell her that people are dyin’, that we got _lives_ to save that are more important than a couple of files and some dry cleaning?”

The other firefighter flinched, “No, but, um…well…”

“Spit it out, Johnson!” the Chief ordered. “I got gas mains fixin’ to go off like a bunch of oh shit boxes at a drunken backyard barbecue!”

“What’s an ‘oh shit box’?” Roy asked with a frown.

“LPG cylinders; in other words, gas tanks,” Melvin translated then shrugged. “I’ve been standing out here for a while so I was able to pick up some of the lingo.”

“Speak!” the older man barked.

“She’s inside the building, sir,” Johnson said reluctantly.

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” he burst out angrily. 

“You’ve got to send some guys in there to save her,” Tommy insisted once more. “Or, at least, give me an oxygen tank and one guy and I’ll go in there myself.”

“I’ll go, too,” Roy offered.

“Not me, I’ll stay here,” Melvin said. As the other men looked at him he shrugged sheepishly, “What? I’m a lawyer, not a fireman! Besides, it’s all smoky and dusty in there and I have asthma.”

“I could go in, Chief,” Johnson offered. “These guys are civilians with no training; we can’t let them go in there alone.” 

“No, I need you out here; we’re shorthanded as it is.” The Chief took a deep breath before blowing it out angrily, “Fuck it! She went in there so it’s on her if she dies.”

“Seriously?” Roy goggled at the older man.

“I got kids trapped under fallen buildings, gas mains about to blow, fires breakin’ out all over the fuckin’ place, and a goddamn earthquake machine sending out aftershocks every couple o’ minutes!” the older man snapped. “I already got six guys in the hospital, dead bodies pilin’ up all over the place, so I don’t have time to save some idiot who ran into a burning building after I warned her repeatedly not to!” He turned to the other firefighter, “Johnson! Let’s go! And you people stay here!” he ordered turning to the rest of them. “Do *not* go into that building or try to cross that line or I’ll have both your asses tossed in jail faster than you can spit—that is if you even live that long!” He pointed to a streak of orange florescent paint someone hastily sprayed across the parking lot, “That building can go at any minute and across that line is the collapse zone. When it goes--and it’s goin’ sooner or later, unless you want to wind up buried under a ton of burnin’ rubble, you’ll stay here! Or, if you really want to be a hero, you can go over to one of the Red Cross tents and donate blood so you can save people who’ve lost more than their favorite drycleanin’ today! Now move it, Johnson!” he yelled out before jogging towards where another group of firefighters and EMTs were waving him over. 

The other firefighter joined him and as the two men jogged off towards where another group of firefighters were trying to lift a large slab of concrete, Tommy called after them, “You’re just going to let her die?”

“Her life, her choice!” the Chief yelled back before barking orders to his other men.

“I hate to say it but he’s kind of right,” Roy said reluctantly. As Tommy turned to glare at him he pointed towards where a young girl holding a mangled doll was being carefully lifted onto a backboard. “I mean, hey; she’s my lawyer and I really don’t want to get stuck with some court-appointed loser and go to jail if she dies, but she _chose_ to go in the building knowing how dangerous it was. If she was going in to save people that would be one thing, but she went in after some files,” he said carefully. “I’m not saying I want her to get hurt or that she deserves to die, I’m just saying that it doesn’t seem right for other people to die just because she did something reckless after pretty much everybody told her not to.”

“He’s got a point,” Melvin offered. “Both Detective Lance and Mr. Queen called her and told her to evacuate the building. In fact, they told her to get everyone out even before the tremors started.”

“Oliver called her?” Tommy asked with a frown. 

Melvin nodded, “Yeah, and she did what they told her to and got everyone out. She even waited for everyone to clear the parking lot before going back in and told me to tell Mr. Queen if he showed up that she was inside.”

Roy frowned at the other man in confusion, “Why’d you stay then?”

“Because she told me if I didn’t stay to watch the boxes she’d revoke my internship,” Melvin grumbled then looked up at Roy wearily, “You may not have picked up on this yet, but Ms. Lance can get pretty intense sometimes, especially when it comes to doing her job…and everyone else’s.” 

Tommy rocked back on his heels at that, “So wait; you’re telling me that she evacuated the building then *waited* until they shut down the street to go back in and told you to tell Oliver where she was?”

“Yeah,” Melvin told him.

“Maybe it’s a good thing she isn’t going to be my lawyer after all because that sounds pretty stupid if you ask me,” Roy huffed. “It’s almost like she was trying to get hurt or something.”

“Not hurt; rescued,” Tommy said flatly, “Specifically by Ollie. And not for the first time either,” he added looked at both men. “Back when we were in high school, whenever they’d break up or have a fight and she wanted to get Ollie’s attention, she’d get ‘lost’ in a bad neighborhood or call to say some scary guys were hassling her at a bar so he’d come get her, and then they’d screw like bunnies to celebrate his act of ‘heroism’.”

“But I thought she was supposed to be _your_ girlfriend?” Melvin asked with a frown.

“Not if he saw that video on YouTube,” Roy muttered then winced, “Now that had to hurt.”

Tommy shot the other man a filthy look, “Actually, no, we broke up; a few weeks ago actually.”

Melvin blinked at that, “But you’re still going in there after her, right?”

Tommy turned to do just that then paused, “You know what?” He bent down to grab his jacket and shrugged it on while shaking his head slowly, “On second thought; no, no I don’t think I will.”

“But—but you heard them; the building’s on fire and it could collapse at any second!” the intern goggled.

“And do I look like a firefighter to you?” Tommy asked, repeating his own words back to him. “If you heard that part then you also heard the part where he told us not to cross the line. Well…” he said throwing his arms out in frustration, “here I am not crossing the line!”

The other man gave him a look of stern disapproval, “That’s pretty coldblooded. I mean, I know she’s your ex, but still.”

“Okay, then if you’re so worried about it then why can’t you go in after her?” Tommy challenged. “After all, she’s your boss.”

“Yeah, but, um…” Melvin began.

“But what?” Roy prompted.

“She’s not exactly…well liked around the office, if you know what I mean,” Melvin said at last. “Plus, she always makes me buy her coffee from this place downtown even though there are like a dozen places that are closer, and then she never pays me back, not even for gas. I tried putting in a request with petty cash but they said they don’t have an expense account for that, just office supplies.”

“So because she didn’t pay you back for a cup of coffee or chip in a couple of bucks for gas, you’re going to let her die?” Roy asked incredulously.

“Hey, do you know how much money we’re talking about here? The coffee alone is like eight bucks a pop, two or three times a day, five days a week! That’s $120 dollars a week just on coffee—coffee I’m not even drinking, and that doesn’t even include the muffin tops she always has me get her. And, before you judge me; I’m just an _intern_ ,” he said insistently. “I don’t actually get paid to work here much less take all this abuse, you know?”

Roy frowned at that, “Wait, so you work here but they don’t pay you? Is that even legal because that sounds wrong?”

“I’m in law school and this counts towards my course credits, plus it looks good on my résumé,” the other man said with no little amount of resentment. “Still, even with student loans and grants I can barely make my rent much less afford to buy Ms. Lance coffee every day and, not only that, but I don’t have any health insurance either,” he pointed out. “If I get hurt going back in there, CNRI won’t compensate me for my injuries or pay my hospital bills. I know because I had to sign a waiver about that stuff when I was hired.”

“A waiver?” Roy repeated.

“It’s a rough neighborhood,” Melvin shrugged. “They might be a pro-bono firm but they’re still lawyers and don’t want anyone suing them in case somebody comes in to shoot up the place. Anyway, even though it probably makes me a bad person, I’m not going in there; I can’t afford it. Besides, Ms. Lance already said-- _multiple times_ , that if I tried to stop her that she’d have my internship rescinded and I’d be lucky to practice law out of a mall kiosk by the time she was done with me.”

“Well, I’d go in but they might bust me for it,” Roy said biting his lip as he turned to Tommy. “I mean, usually I wouldn’t give a crap about getting busted but if they’d arrest her for going in there then they’d definitely throw the book at me and I already have a couple of charges pending. Even if I could get away with going in there…” He shot them a hesitant look, “Look, if I knew for sure she was in trouble then I’d go in; I would. I wouldn’t even care about going to jail, but you heard what that guy said; she went in there on purpose because she specifically wants that Ollie guy to save her, not us. I don’t want to risk pissing either of them off, you know? Thea’s brother already can’t stand me and she told Thea that she could probably get my case thrown out of court but if I piss her off then she could tell her old man. Lance already hates my guts; it wouldn’t take much to give him an excuse to make it hard for me in front of the judge and then I’d be screwed. ”

“He’s right,” Melvin said reluctantly. “Some people get off on the whole sex and danger thing. From what you just told us, and from seeing what was on that YouTube video—“

“What YouTube video?” Tommy asked in exasperation.

“I’ll show you later,” Roy promised.

“Anyway, like you said, this could be something they’re into and, frankly, I really don’t want to see that.” he looked at Roy and shrugged, “Ms. Lance is attractive, don’t get me wrong. Well, when she isn’t screaming at the top of her lungs, that is, but I’m more into dudes.”

“That’s cool,” Roy nodded.

Tommy looked at the building again and debated, “If I go in there, Laurel is just going to take one look at me and ask what I’m doing there. She’ll launch into this whole spiel about how I don’t respect her decisions, and how she can take care of herself; then she’ll probably yell at me then tell me to leave so that Ollie can save her instead. That or the ‘Hood’,” he added sarcastically.

“The Hood?” Roy said, his eyes flashing with excitement. “You think he’ll come here?”

“Pretty sure, yeah. He has a real soft spot for Laurel. Or hard spot rather,” Tommy grumbled under his breath. He took another second to fume over that before sighing, “Okay, well, screw it. As much as I really don’t want to have to deal with her shit right now, I have to go in there. I can’t risk having Ollie pull a no-show and—“

At that moment a large aftershock had the three men stumbling around as a section of the building’s roof collapsed, making it impossible to enter through the front door.

The three men stared at the ruins in shock.

“Oh, well that’s not good,” Melvin said quietly.

“Oh fuck,” Tommy hissed.

“She could still be okay,” Roy pointed out helpfully. “After all, it’s just the front door; the rest of the building looks fine.”

“Other than the fact that it’s on fire,” Melvin added.

“Other than that, yeah,” Roy said weakly.

Tommy’s phone buzzed and he checked his messages then blinked, “It’s from Dig.” He read the message, “She’s trapped in the foundry? What the hell is she still doing down there? It’s practically ground zero!”

“What’s a foundry?” Roy asked. “Is that like a basement?”

“I didn’t think CNRI had a basement,” Melvin said with a frown.

“A foundry is the part of the iron works where they melt the—never mind, it’s basically the basement of my club,” Tommy told them irritably then corrected himself, “My ex-club, I mean.”

“She’s at Verdant?” Roy asked him. “How’d she get from CNRI to there without us seeing her?”

“Not Laurel, this other girl,” Tommy told them. “The IT girl who helps set up stuff for the club. I have to go,” he said turning to leave.

Melvin’s jaw dropped at that, “So you’re going to go help someone at your club but you aren’t going to save Ms. Lance?” 

Tommy’s mouth tightened in annoyance, “Dig, the guy who texted me said that Ollie’s on his way here to help Laurel. Besides, the entrance is blocked so I couldn’t get in there even if I wanted to and all the EMTs and firefighters are here. Despite what they said, I’m sure that Johnson guy and his crew will be back here any minute now to start digging her out. Meanwhile, no one is at the club to help this other girl and I still have my keys and know all the entry codes. It has to be me; there is no one else.” He began to jog away down the street, “Tell him—uh, Ollie or the Hood, whichever one shows up, where she is when he gets here—that is if the firemen don’t get her out first!”

“Can you believe that guy?” Roy asked, shoving his hands in his pockets and hitching his chin towards Tommy’s retreating figure. 

“Kind of,” Melvin said before offering Roy a wry grimace, “You’ve never met Ms. Lance, have you?”

“No, not really,” he admitted. “My girlfriend knows her though and from what she’s said about her…” Roy paused, “Yeah, I see what you mean.”

At that moment the fire roared over the top of the roofline and both men hissed in sympathy. 

Roy shook his head, “All I know is this Ollie guy better hurry up or I’m going to need to find a new lawyer.”

Melvin shot the other man a curious look, “You know, technically, I’m a lawyer.”

“Yeah?” Roy asked. “I thought you said you were an intern?”

“Technically, yeah, but the judge can make an exception since I practically have my law degree already and I’m taking the bar in less than a month. In fact, now that my internship is pretty much up in smoke, handling a case on my own would probably look really great on my résumé.”

“What about Ms. Lance?” Roy asked him.

“Between you and me, you don’t want her,” the other man said confidentially. “Technically, they don’t even handle criminal cases here. We’re not legal aid; they’re in the building across the bridge near the courthouse.”

“But what about that guy who was going to be executed for killing his wife?” Roy asked him. “She got that guy off, right?” 

“Yeah, but the truth is, until that case most of the stuff we’ve handled for the criminal court has been for petty stuff like public intoxication or shop lifting and only when a judge ordered us to, otherwise the legal aid office downtown or the bigger non-profits like the Innocence Project handles that stuff.” 

“Then why would she take that case much less offer to help me?” Roy asked in confusion.

The other man shrugged, “Honestly? If I had to guess I’d say it has more to do with your girlfriend’s brother than anything else. Ever since her ex came back into town Ms. Lance has been all over the place, acting erratically, and taking on all of these high profile cases that are _way_ beyond the scope of what we’re set up to handle. When Mr. Wethersby set up the trust to fund the City Necessary Resources Initiative, it was specifically created to help the people here in the Glades with stuff like bankruptcies, disability claims, and housing disputes. Ms. Lance has been taking on more and more criminal cases though and it’s been, well,” he paused, “Ms. Lance isn’t even a criminal attorney; she practices corporate law like Ms. de la Vega. Then, all of the sudden, right around the time your girlfriend started doing her community service here, Ms. Lance started taking on more and more criminal cases—big cases that can get pretty expensive, not to mention dangerous, even though we’ve _always_ referred that stuff to legal aid in the past. While taking on stuff like with the innocent guy who was about to be executed for killing his wife is admirable, most of the people who work here are either interns or volunteers. They don’t get paid; the only ones who get paid to work here are Ms. Lance and a couple of the paralegals. Even Ms. de la Vega, our other attorney, is a volunteer. She just comes in a few hours a week to help out and the rest of the time she works at Wethersby  & Stone. However,” he said pausing slightly, “now that I no longer have an internship to get to, I can spend all my time helping you with your case. It might even earn me some points with Ms. de la Vega since I was planning on applying there after taking the bar next month,” he said mostly to himself. 

“Would I have to pay you?” Roy asked uncertainly, “Because, if I had any money, then I wouldn’t have had to borrow that car or break into that store to steal those groceries in the first place.”

The other man stared at him in confusion, “You stole a car to steal groceries?”

Roy’s mouth tightened and his cheeks lit up in embarrassment, “Not exactly. Well, I stole the groceries, and I did break and enter the building, but I was planning on paying for them when I could afford it and I didn’t really ‘steal’ the car; I just borrowed it from the landlord then returned it afterwards. The guy I borrowed it from didn’t even know I did it until the cops busted me for the B&E and the groceries. See, our slumlord also owns the convenience store I broke into and he keeps gouging us for rent. Every month it’s the same thing: He barges into our apartment without even knocking then, even though the rent isn’t due yet, he says we’re late and demands we pay him another fifty bucks or he’ll kick us out--and he still hasn’t fixed the heat or the pipes even though they’ve been busted for months!” He took a deep breath and blew it out harshly, “So I finally had enough and I figured he owed us. It was just some milk and bread, along with some frozen pizzas and stuff. It was less than fifty bucks worth of groceries since that’s how much he made us pay him in addition to the rent. I just took enough to get us through the rest of the week until I could get paid. Still, I wouldn’t have taken any of it, but my mom’s sick and she hasn’t been doing well lately so…”

“Don’t worry about paying me,” Melvin cut him off. “We’ll file papers with the court to transfer your case to me and the state will cover it. In the meantime…” he glanced over to where the Red Cross was setting up a soup line, “Do you want to go grab a cup of coffee and talk over your case with me? I want to hear more about this landlord of yours, too, and I think they have sandwiches and stuff.”

“I could eat,” Roy admitted. “But aren’t we supposed to wait for Oliver to show up?”

“She’ll be fine,” he said confidently. “The firefighters and Mr. Merlyn wouldn’t have left if they thought Ms. Lance was in any real danger. Besides, like he said, we’re not firemen. I’m sure that as soon as they can they’ll be back over here to help her.”

Roy shrugged, “Okay.”


	2. Taken Too Soon

TWO WEEKS LATER…

The priest looked over the crowd solemnly.

“A life that hasn’t had a chance to fully grow and live out its purpose in this world is a life that has been taken from this earth too soon.” He paused, “Oliver Queen, who I’m told was very close to the family—“ A few of the attendants snickered at that and he glared in reproach, “—will be delivering the eulogy. Mr. Queen?” 

Everyone looked around in confusion as Oliver failed to appear.

“Mr. Queen, are you ready?” the priest asked with a frown.

One of the lawyers from CNRI leaned towards her coworker and whispered, “Maybe he took off to China again?”

“I doubt it,” her friend said cattily. “She only had the one sister.”

Tommy got up from his seat reluctantly and threw both women a dirty look before speaking, “I can probably say a few words.”

The minister nodded and Tommy walked up the aisle, doing his best to ignore the hushed whispers all around him.

After all, he was Malcolm Merlyn’s only son and there had already been several funerals for his victims that day. Some of them so close together it was almost like people were playing funeral bingo; they’d leave one graveside service only to walk over to another. At last count, more than five hundred people were dead or presumed dead and that count could go even higher considering that many of the survivors were still in ICU including the little girl they watched being pulled from the rubble.

According to the fireman they’d met, Johnson, the little girl’s entire family died in the building collapse including her brothers and grandmother. If she survived she’d be placed in foster care as there was no other family left, none they could locate anyway. After hearing that, and unable to do anything else, Tommy went out and bought her another doll and had the nurse leave it on the table near her bed. He didn’t even bother to try to see her or leave a card. Even if he had been allowed to see her, a strange man who the little girl had never met in her life, he sincerely doubted she’d want to see the guy whose dad murdered her entire family and put her in the hospital. 

He took a breath to steady his nerves, turned to the crowd, and began to speak, “Laurel Lance was one of the greatest people I’ve ever known,” he said solemnly. “She was so much more than just a, well, bitch,” he said blithely.

Embarrassed snickers rang out as he waved the crowd down and offered them a sad smile, “Let’s face it; Laurel had a challenging personality even on her best day,” he said dryly causing a few people to chuckle and echo back with their own hushed comments of ‘that’s true’. “She could be…difficult,” he said after a moment’s pause, “but that’s because Laurel Lance was always trying to save the world.” His mouth tightened and he swallowed, “We used to joke about that; Laurel Lance, always trying to save the world. It was true though; she wanted to save the world and…I loved her,” he admitted. “I loved her in every way you can possibly love someone. I’ve loved her since I was seven years old and I hate that Malcolm Merlyn, a man I unfortunately share DNA with, took her from us.” He looked over the crowd. “I apologize for that; to her family, her friends, her community, because my father stole her from all of you. He destroyed so many lives that day. So far, five hundred and three people have died because of what he did and I can never make that right; no one can. The only comfort I can give you is the assurance that he died as well. He’s gone; Malcolm Merlyn died with his victims. The Hood ended his life and I can’t say I regret that,” he said honestly.

“He was my father, yes, but to me my father has been dead for twenty years. He died the night my mother was murdered,” he told them. “That was the night the father I knew died and became something else. I was eight years old and we buried my mother right over there,” he said pointing to his mother’s tombstone that was nearby. “I was eight years old, my mother had just died, and I spent the night in our house _alone_ because the day we buried her, Malcolm left me and he stayed away for more than two years after that without so much as a phone call to let me know he was still alive. He didn’t even make any arrangements for my care really, didn’t say goodbye; he just left like a coward in the middle of the night.” He looked over the crowd once more, “He took care of what was really important though; he called his CFO to let him know he wouldn’t be back to work,” he joked darkly. “Luckily for me, Michael was a better man and father than my own father was because he immediately jumped into action and called the Queens to come check on me since they lived practically next door. Robert came to my house, still dressed in his pajamas, and took me home with him that night and that’s where I stayed for the next two years. They’re the ones who took me in after my own father abandoned me,” he said frankly. “Hell, even after Malcolm came back I still lived there most of the time,” he huffed. “As far as I’m concerned, Malcolm Merlyn was just someone I used to share a last name with. Robert Queen was my real father. He and Moira could’ve turned me over to social services or left me to be raised by nannies but, instead, they made me part of their household. They were there when I cried myself to sleep or when I had nightmares. They were there for every birthday, every school function. They were there on Christmas morning when my own supposed father couldn’t even be bothered to send a card. In exchange, my father murdered Robert along with Sara Lance, Laurel’s sister, and tried to murder my best friend, Oliver. He then spent the next _five years_ torturing Moira, blackmailing her into going along with his plans by kidnapping her second husband and threatening to kill her daughter and now, the woman who raised me like one of her own, is in jail awaiting trial because of what _he_ did. Laurel is dead because of what _he_ did; because he was angry that my mother died, and I’m so sorry for that. _I’m **so** very sorry_ ,” he said looking over to the Lances before turning back to the crowd. “And if my mother were alive, she would say the same thing. She would say that no one deserved to die that day, and certainly not in her name. She would’ve hated my father for what he did to all of you and I’m so sorry.”

He gave a humorless chuckle, “But don’t feel tempted to make excuses for Malcolm or feel sorry for him. Don’t try to justify his actions by saying he was insane; he wasn’t,” he said firmly. “Malcolm Merlyn was evil, he wasn’t insane. He was a heartless bastard who only loved himself. Despite all the humanitarian awards he bought himself by paying off the right people, he was a cold, calculating monster and he _never_ loved me or my mother. If he truly loved my mother then the last thing he’d ever do is kill innocent people in her name. I knew that long before he set off that device in the Glades; I’ve known that since I was ten years old! The father I knew returned to me this soulless husk who…” he stopped, his eyes stinging with tears of anger and guilt, unable to continue for a moment. “Excuse me,” he said clearing his throat before turning away from the crowd to collect himself before turning back, speaking in measured tones.

“The first thing he said to me after two years without a phone call, a birthday card, anything, was that I was nothing to him,” he said flatly. “I ran up to him in tears, happy to finally have him back, and he pushed me away with this look of disgust on his face and said that I was useless, that I was ‘soft’, that he wished I wasn’t his son because I reminded him of my mother,” he told them, taking in their sympathetic looks, more than a few of them holding up their phones to video the eulogy. “My mother; the woman he _claimed_ to love so much that he would murder five hundred and three people in her name, and that was just the beginning of what he put me through but this—“ he swallowed again, “This isn’t about me or Malcolm; today is about Laurel,” he said looking back at her grave. “You know, Laurel was the only person in my life who ever stood up to him on my behalf. Neighbors wouldn’t do it, the people who worked in our home and who heard and saw what he did to me every single day wouldn’t say anything, my teachers wouldn’t even try to help even though they knew something was wrong; they were all too afraid of him. Even if someone had called social services, chances are he could’ve stopped it with a phone call. I mean, hey; Robert tried standing up to him and…well,” he lifted his eyebrows meaningfully at that. “Hell, just a few months ago this city’s leadership gave him an award for ‘helping’ the people of the Glades. The people _you_ elected handed that man a plaque and called him a hero even though they knew exactly what he was, but _Laurel_ never let Malcolm get away with a damn thing. Every time he’d try to humiliate me in public, in front of her—which was a lot, by the way, she’d come at him with both barrels and she didn’t give a damn how rich or powerful he was. She didn’t just do that for me either; she’d stand up for anyone she thought needed her help, no matter the personal cost.” 

He paused again nodding to himself, “My father was an evil man. He was filled with nothing but hatred and thought that the way to save this city was to destroy it. He looked at the poorest parts of our city, at the hardworking men and women who lived in the Glades and, instead of fixing the problem by providing jobs, or healthcare, or seeing to it that they were properly represented by the men and women whose job it is to make Starling better, he paid them off, bought himself a bunch of fancy plaques to hang on his office wall, then tried to burn it all down. He set off an earthquake machine—two actually, to wipe the people of the Glades off the map. And what was their crime, you ask? They were poor,” he said simply. “This wasn’t about my mother. My mother was a good person, a doctor, and she cared about the people who lived in the Glades. She ran a free clinic and tried to make their lives better; she tried to help them. A man killed my mother, not the Glades; _one man_. A junkie looking to get high killed my mother and wound up getting killed himself less than a week later. The people who died in the earthquake had nothing to do with that, they just had the misfortune of being born poor and having to make their home there. Laurel, on the other hand, worked with the people of the Glades to try to make their lives better just like my mother did. She took her education and, instead of getting a job with a corner office and a six figure salary, she used her skills to help people. She fought against corruption. She helped people and I loved her. And I _hate_ that she died because of Malcolm. I hate that she won’t be here to help the people who need her and I especially hate that my mother’s legacy, a woman who was the closest thing to an angel I can think of, will forever be tainted by this. I hate that. I hate that because of his act of cowardice from here on out people will only remember Rebecca Merlyn as the woman who inspired Malcolm Merlyn to become a terrorist, and I hate that whenever people talk about Laurel it will be because she was one of his victims.” 

“She deserves better than that because she was no one’s victim, least of all Malcolm’s” he said firmly. 

He looked across the many faces in attendance, both known and unknown, until lighting on the bruised but lovely face of the blonde IT girl who he helped pull from the ruins of his club and offered her a sad smile.

After he got Felicity out of the destroyed foundry, he took her straight to the hospital since she was pretty banged up. Because she took a few hard knocks to the head, they immediately took her in for a CT. The fireman they’d spoken to in front of CNRI, Johnson, was there. During one of the aftershocks, he’d apparently dislocated his shoulder and was getting an x-ray. 

That’s when he found out that Laurel was gone.

By the time she came into the lobby, he was a blubbering mess. It was Felicity who held his hand and comforted him as he blamed himself for not going in sooner. Instead, he waited for Oliver to do it but, unfortunately, he was too late. By the time Ollie got to her, she was lying under a large slab of concrete with a piece of rebar through her chest. Ollie tried to get the concrete off of her so he could carry her to the EMTs but the rebar had impaled her through the aorta. The only reason she’d still been alive when he got to her was because the pressure of the concrete was keeping the wound sealed. When he tried shifting it off her, she bled out in seconds. 

“ _Maybe if I’d gone in when I first got there, I could’ve pulled her out before the roof fell_ ,” he said tearfully, his head buried in his hands. “ _Why didn’t I go in?_ ” he asked her. “ _Yeah, I was mad at her, but I still should’ve gone in! I killed her, Felicity_ ,” he sobbed. “ _She died because I was jealous; because I was angry that she and Ollie slept together._ ”

“ _No, that’s not what happened_ ,” Felicity said firmly. “ _I don’t know what went on with Oliver and Laurel, but I can tell you that Oliver thought the same thing; that he killed Laurel, and I’m here to tell you that you’re both wrong_ ,” she said squeezing his hand comfortingly. “ _You didn’t kill Laurel and neither did he. He thought **he** killed her because he tried moving the slab but you heard what Officer Johnson said; she was gone the minute that roof started to come down. Her injuries were such that she wouldn’t have survived even if they brought in a surgeon and operated on her then and there! What’s more, if you had gone inside, chances are you wouldn’t have been able to save her and both of you would be dead. You didn’t kill Laurel, Tommy, and neither did Oliver_ ,” she emphasized, “ _Malcolm did. He’s the one responsible for all of this, not you_.”

After they got out of the hospital, Felicity shoved him in her little Mini and drove him to the Queen mansion despite the fact that she had one hand in a wrist brace and her foot in a boot due to a couple of nasty sprains. When they got there she, along with a shell-shocked Thea, somehow managed to get him in bed. The two of them stayed with him on and off over the next couple of days, Felicity even braving the protesters to go into his old house to get him some clothes along with a suit to wear to the funeral.

Funerals, he corrected mentally. They had to wait almost two weeks to bury Laurel but it could’ve been worse. There were so many dead that some families could be waiting months before they would be able to bury their loved ones. Morgues and funeral homes as far away as Central City were pitching in to help with the embalming and storage of the unclaimed bodies, while all the cemeteries and churches in town were holding services from early in the morning until late in the afternoon. There was even a grim emergency meeting of the board of alderman to discuss how long they should wait before they began cremating the bodies that were too mangled to identify either by dental records or fingerprints. 

Starling City’s Board of Aldermen usually met on the first and third Tuesdays of the month at 5:00pm but since the fall of the Glades they’d been meeting daily. The gallery, which was normally empty other than a few members of the local press, had been filled to capacity from the time the doors opened at 7:30 am until well after 6 pm when city hall closed and Tommy, when he wasn’t attending yet another funeral or sitting in the ruins of his former club trying to drink himself into a coma, was there. 

He’d never really cared about local politics. Actually, truth be told, he’d never cared about politics, period; he’d never even voted before, not even for president. Being around his father and his cronies in Orchid Bay had left him with the impression that it was all just a lot of bullshit anyway so, while he was vaguely familiar with the names of some of the aldermen, he never really knew what it was they did beyond fixing the roads and asking people to donate to their campaigns by promising political favors.

Now he did. 

The last few weeks had been something of a crash course in local politics and he quickly learned that the board of aldermen were the governing body of Fort Plymouth County and were either elected or appointed by the mayor to make policy decisions in accordance with procedures and responsibilities set out by the laws of the state of California. The board consisted of the mayor, an alderman at large who was essentially the ‘vice mayor’, and six aldermen representing the six districts within the city.

Wards One and Two were in Lamb Valley, Ward One being Platinum Flats which covered Saulk Village, Elgin, and Clarendon Hills which is where both his and Oliver’s homes were located. It and Ward Two, consisting of the Lakeview, Westchester, and Lombard townships, otherwise known as ‘Millionaire Valley’, were home to the vast majority of the one-percenters in Starling City.

Ward One was represented by Mason Danforth and Ward Two by Robert Sanders, both of whom were old friends of both the Queens and Malcolm and who, along with Billy Bowen in Ward Six, presented his father with a Humanitarian of the Year award just a few months previously. However, neither man so much as looked at him when they passed by his seat at the front of the gallery despite the fact that Tommy had gone to school with their kids and had briefly dated Mason’s daughter, Madison, back in high school.

Further south was Ward Three, usually referred to as the Historical District or ‘the suburbs’, and included the townships of Wriggleyville, Brainerd, Old Town, and Oak Forest. Their alderman was Della Mathers, the only woman on the board besides their Alderman At Large, Celia Castle. While Tommy had never met the woman he could tell she cared about her district’s residents very much. She was also the first person on the board to bring up things like temporarily busing some of the children to the Wriggleyville and Old Town school districts to take some of the pressure off of Ward Five as their own schools had either been damaged or destroyed in the Undertaking. 

Needless to say, that idea was not well-liked. Several of the aldermen had objected to the idea of their children and grandchildren attending the same schools as students with ‘potential gang ties’, but she won in the end. That fact alone put her in the ‘good guy’ category, in Tommy’s mind, at least. 

Ward Four was also known as Orchid Bay which was the county seat and the location of Starling’s City Hall. It included the townships of Near South, Park, and Aurora, as well as the Financial District and, just over the Orchid Bay Bridge, the island of Castlefall which was where Iron Heights prison was located. Their alderman was a man named Kirk Povall, a former prison warden and a hard faced man who always looked like he was about two seconds from losing his shit even when he was smiling.

Ward Five’s alderman was Paul Janoush, a gruff, blue collar guy who represented a mostly blue collar district near the edge of the Glades consisting of the townships of Hyde Park, Plesa Park, Tesserville, and Damen Hills. His district had suffered a good deal of damage from the Undertaking, albeit not nearly as much as Ward Six, but enough that he and Billy Bowen had been at each other’s throats for the last two weeks over the distribution of relief funds—literally. They’d even had to be separated after Janoush threatened the other man because Bowen kept interrupting him while he was trying to talk before finally telling him to ‘shut up’ or he’d lay him out on his ‘big fat ass’.

While Tommy had never actually met or spoken to Alderman Janoush, he really, really liked that guy.

Lastly, was William ‘Billy’ Bowen, the aforementioned alderman for Ward Six and Fucknugget’s cousin twice removed or some shit. The guy was an idiot but family money got him his job as alderman over the South Shore which consisted of the townships of Marquette, Pennytown, Blumebury where the stockyards were located, Glaberton, and Daleyville. Technically he was also over East Gary, the South Shore, Villa Park, and Jackson Park as well, all the neighborhoods that made up the area known as ‘The Glades’, but he’d never really paid any attention to that part of his district until the Undertaking happened. He was too busy kissing the asses of the people living on the ‘right side’ of Starling Bay Bridge to worry about the rest of the people under his care. Even now he kept arguing to divert funds to Marquette and Blumeberry even though they came out of things relatively unscathed compared to Pennytown or even Damen Hills in Ward Five because, in his mind, they were the only ones who counted. 

The only one left was Celia Castle whose job as Alderman-At-Large appeared to consist of herding cats and preventing Paul Janoush from laying Fucknugget’s cousin, Billy, on his ass.

The first meeting of the board of alderman following the Undertaking was twelve hours long, twelve of the longest hours of his life but, despite the glares he got from the rest of the people who attended that meeting, Tommy stayed and listened to the whole damn thing just as he had done for each and every subsequent meeting in between his visits to Starling City’s many graveyards. 

Speaking of graveyards, because of those meetings he now knew more about the intricacies of burying the unclaimed dead in Fort Plymouth County than he ever wanted to know. For instance, he now knew that the city transferred unclaimed bodies to the county morgue after thirty days. After that, the county morgue usually kept the unclaimed body in the freezer for another ninety days before sending out a thirty day notice to any known family members. If the body still hasn’t been claimed after one hundred and twenty days, the city and county have contracts with two crematoriums to incinerate the bodies, after which the cremains were placed in a simple brown cardboard box and held in storage at the Fort Plymouth County Morgue for up to two years before burial. 

Starling, like many other large cities, had its fair share of unclaimed bodies. Some were bodies of the indigent but most were unclaimed because their families simply couldn’t afford the funeral costs. Over the past several days Tommy had learned that it cost two hundred dollars just to claim a body at the morgue and the average ‘cheap, no frills’ funeral was around eight thousand dollars. If the decedent was a victim of a violent crime, often the county would waive the two hundred dollar fee but many families chose to wait for the county to pay for the cremation, after which they could pay three hundred and eighty-six dollars to claim the ashes which was roughly half of what the funeral home charged. 

Billy Bowen in particular had blustered about that a bit, tried saying that his district shouldn’t have to cover those costs if the families could afford it and that they should have to ‘prove’ they were poor or be forced to pay but, before he (or Paul Janoush whose district was in the same boat and who spent the entire meeting eyeing the other man like he was a turd floating in a swimming pool) could give in to the urge to sock the son of a bitch in the jaw, Della Mathers pointed out that, as large as Starling City and Fort Plymouth County were, they only had a staff of four people working at the county morgue. Apparently, in addition to being alderman for Ward Three, she was also the county coroner so she was the board’s ‘expert’ on this particular subject. According to her, they simply did not have the manpower it would take to ‘investigate’ every family member who, for whatever reason, couldn’t or wouldn’t claim the bodies of their dead.

And there were a lot of them. Even before Malcolm’s Undertaking, Della informed them that there were an average of one thousand four hundred unclaimed bodies disposed of by the county per year.

When the cremains were left unclaimed after two years, they were buried in a mass grave in potter’s field. These mass burials were held once a year, usually in the second week of December on a Monday, and given an interfaith service where volunteers and clergy members from local churches, temples, and mosques would come to read the names of the dead, known and unknown, before sending them off to their eternal rest.

While most of the dead had been identified fairly quickly, the fact was that identifying remains and having them claimed were two very different things. The Glades was one of the poorest neighborhoods in Northern California and most of the survivors couldn’t afford to claim the bodies of their loved ones even if the county waived the two hundred dollar fee. Whole families died that day and most of the survivors couldn’t afford the costs of one funeral much less several, and the county simply didn’t have the money to cremate them all even if the feds came through with the disaster relief funds they’d applied for. That money would go to the living; to rebuilding the infrastructure of the damaged parts of the city so the survivors would have clean water, electricity, and could travel down safe roads. Thanks in part to Bowen’s incompetence as alderman and the city’s indifference to the people who lived there, the Glades were already in rough shape before the Undertaking. Therefore caring for the dead, while important, wasn’t their biggest priority at the moment.

Around that time, Billy (who, again, was all for giving that money to people who, at most, had suffered some cracked sidewalks while making the grieving family members who lived within his district hand over their bank statements and credit reports) shot him a filthy look and suggested the city sue Malcolm Merlyn’s estate since it was his fault they were in such dire financial straits in the first place. What that asshole didn’t know was that, if his father hadn’t cut him off, Tommy would’ve gladly broke the bank to pay for those funerals. He would’ve paid for the funerals, the roads, the clean-up costs—all of it. However, all he could do was hang his head in shame as he listened to them debate whether or not they should start cremating bodies in thirty days rather than waiting the usual one hundred and twenty days since they were running out of room even with the remains being placed in body bags and stacked in large freezers, one on top of the other like cord wood. 

As much as he would’ve liked to just hand the board a blank check, right now all Tommy had were the clothes on his back and around forty bucks shoved in the back of his wallet. He wasn’t too worried about it though. Thea said he could stay with her as long as he had to and the government hadn’t frozen any of Moira’s assets yet so they still had money. 

She did rather, he corrected mentally. He was just sponging off her and living on borrowed time. Walter was acting as her guardian and fiduciary while Moira was in jail so he assured her that money wasn’t going to be a problem. If worse came to worst and the government did block her access to both the Queen and the Dearden trusts, Thea could always move in with her stepfather. Tommy was pretty sure he would be invited to come along as well but, as much as he liked Walter, he didn’t feel comfortable mooching off the man. Thea, sure, but she was practically his sister, but considering that Malcolm had Walter kidnapped and held prisoner for several months, expecting the guy to let him crash on his couch...?

Yeah, Tommy might be flat busted and looking at the possibility of living in a refrigerator box in his near future, but there is no way he could accept Walter’s charity; not after everything Malcolm had put him through…but all that was a worry for another time. Even if he was left broke and homeless he’d figure it out. If he had to, he’d break into the club and sleep in what was left of his old office. Right now though he needed to get through the day, through one more funeral; Laurel’s funeral. The rest of it he’d worry about tomorrow.

Tommy took a deep breath and spoke again, “We weren’t together in the weeks before she died but I never stopped loving her. I’ve loved her since the first time we met; since I was seven years old. And so did Ollie,” he said quietly. “And Laurel loved him.” His mouth tightened and he breathed in sharply through his nose before blowing it out slowly, “I was just a placeholder because it was always Oliver; _always_. He was the love of her life and, if there is one blessing in all of this, it’s that her final moments were spent with Oliver, just as it was meant to be. That’s all Laurel ever wanted; she wanted him to be with her, to be there by her side and, in the end, he was.” He licked his lips, “And I’m sure that if Oliver could be here today, he’d say the same thing; that they were each other’s always.” 

He looked up and noticed Ollie in the shadow of a large oak. The two men locked eyes for a moment before Oliver turned and walked away. 

Tommy’s mouth tightened in a mixture of pain and regret, “But clearly it’s too painful for him so I’ll say it for him.” He turned to Laurel’s grave and spoke, “I know that, no matter how much I wanted things to turn out differently between us, no matter how much I wished that you could’ve loved me the way I loved you, you loved Ollie more. Even after everything, he was the guy you chose, the guy you’d always choose; not me. It was never going to be me and I can accept that. Despite everything, I’m glad Ollie came back and the two of you found each other again because I loved—love,” he corrected himself, “both of you. I really mean that. I want you to know that I would’ve gladly danced at your wedding someday. I would’ve loved to watch you walk down that aisle, even if I wasn’t the guy you were walking towards. I would’ve even given a toast to the happy couple, to you and Ollie, then tried to catch the bouquet…or whatever it is that guys are supposed to catch at those things; a garter I think. Most of the time when I went to weddings in the past I was more interested in catching bridesmaids than garters,” he joked sniffling a bit before clenching his jaw, “But for your wedding, I’d do it. I’d do anything for you.” His voice broke then and he wiped away the moisture on his cheeks with the back of his hand before speaking again.

“I don’t know where you are, honey, and I don’t know if heaven exists, but wherever you are right now, I hope that you can hear me.” He looked up at the overcast sky and took another deep breath, “I love you, Laurel. I will _always_ love you, and just know that even though I wasn’t the love of your life, you were the love of mine.”

He turned back to the crowd and nodded, “Thank you.”

A FEW HOURS LATER…

One of the women from Laurel’s office, a busty little redhead named Veronica, stuffed a piece of paper in his lapel pocket before patting his chest and offering him a small smile that was designed to be both sexy and sympathetic, “If you ever need someone to talk to, call me.”

“Oh, I will,” he promised solemnly even though he already had plans to dump her number in the trash as soon as he found a bin. While he used to joke with Ollie that getting trim at a funeral was like shooting fish in a barrel, there was something seriously wrong with any chick who would try to pick up their dead friend’s ex at their funeral, especially considering that it was their dead friend’s ex’s dad who killed her.

The bad thing was that the redhead wasn’t even the first woman to hit on him at this thing; she was just the only one brazen enough to slip her number in his pocket. 

So far anyway, he thought as yet another one of Laurel’s so-called ‘friends’ passed by with a frisky twinkle in her eye.

“God, I need a drink,” he muttered as he took another sip of his overly sweet un-spiked punch then twisted his lips in disgust. “A real drink and not this shit.”

‘Who the hell ever heard of a dry funeral?’ he thought as he put his cup down on the table next to him. 

Yeah, 7-Up and rainbow sherbet, while deliciously cool and fruity, simply wasn’t cutting it. 

Sure, Lance was a recovering alcoholic but, goddamn.

“Talk about karma biting you in the fucking ass,” he mumbled as he scratched at the couple of weeks-worth of stubble on his cheeks. While Thea and Felicity both saw to it that his clothes were clean and neatly pressed and insisted he bathe at least once a day, certain vanities had fallen to the wayside but the scruffy beard and disheveled hair that had been overdue for a trim even before the Undertaking apparently weren’t hurting his game.

Either that or the single women of Starling City were really, really desperate, he thought as a third woman, this one a blonde, wiggled her fingers at him from across the room.

In the past, before Ollie got on a boat and he decided to try out the relationship thing with Laurel, Tommy had been of the school of thought that said a hard dick had no conscience, which was why he and Ollie often trolled wakes and funerals for grieving girls looking for a sympathetic shoulder to cry on. However, now that he found himself on the other end of that scenario, there was just something creepy as fuck about it. It was like a goddamn meat market and for some reason all of the women there were eyeing him like he was prime rib. 

When he arrived at the Lance’s house, he fully expected to have his ass kicked. At the very least, he expected someone to cuss him out then demand he leave. Instead, both Lance and his ex-wife had been very welcoming to him, Mrs. Lance even going so far as to hug him and thank him for what he said at Laurel’s funeral. Detective Lance, while he didn’t go so far as to hug him, also didn’t threaten to shoot him so that was a win. The last thing Tommy expected though was to be bombarded by a constant stream of come-on’s and eye-fucking. 

Another woman, this one a willowy brunette, passed by. 

“Hi,” she said in a husky voice as she traced her dewy lips with a carrot stick.

“Hi,” he mumbled, looking away quickly.

Seriously, what kind of person simulated giving a blowjob to a fucking carrot stick in order to pick up the son of a domestic terrorist at one of his victim’s funerals?

Even if, in this scenario, he was the one stuck playing the role of the son of a domestic terrorist.

Yeah, maybe he was being a hypocrite for thinking it, especially given the fact that, not so long ago, he was a ‘billionaire playboy’, but these women were absolutely batshit insane. That was the only explanation he could come up with because he was definitely not a billionaire or a playboy anymore and, since his dad had pretty much fucked his family’s name into the ground, he definitely wasn’t a catch these days either.

Tommy paused at that.

Oh shit, he thought, my dad is basically an American version of Osama bin Laden. I’m never getting laid again, am I? 

Or he might get laid, just not with women he’d actually want to have sex with. They would be the kind of women who, if you weren’t careful, would superglue your dick to your thigh after you fell asleep.

Or worse, he thought, the kind of women who would cut it off altogether then stick it in the freezer for later.

He looked up and accidently caught the eye of the busty redhead again who gave him another one of those patented ‘fuck me at a funeral’ smiles before mouthing the words ‘Call me’.

Yeah, no; not happening--ever. 

While he wasn’t exactly ready to hop into another relationship at the moment, even one that only lasted until breakfast, he was pretty sure that he was going to want to have sex _eventually_ and with someone who didn’t keep a butcher knife under their pillow. Instead, now he was looking forward to a life of couch surfing with whatever friends would still talk to him, stealing food out of dumpsters after his shift at McDonalds ended because no one else was going to hire him, and having sex with members of the Lorena Bobbitt fan club.

Although that guy kind of did deserve to have his dick cut off. 

And who the hell was he trying to kid with that McDonald’s shit? He’d be damn _lucky_ to get a job at Mickey D’s. Mickey D’s was so elite they even had a burger _college_. That alone made Mickey D’s the Harvard of fast food joints and he should know because he actually did go to Harvard. 

Not that his degrees were worth the paper they were printed on, especially after all this. They weren’t even worth that much before the Undertaking because, while he majored in Pre-Med, instead of also going for a business degree like his father suggested, he minored in, of all things, Musical Theater.

Why musical theater and not something practical like business, or chemistry, or biology? Three reasons: 1) his mom liked the theater 2) chicks dig theater majors and 3) it meant Malcolm had to spend an additional $43,938 dollars a year in tuition fees just so he could play Billy Crocker in the Mellon Theatre’s production of _Anything Goes_.

While, given his current financial state, he regretted not going for a degree in something that could actually earn him a steady paycheck, seeing how pissed Malcolm was to have to write that check was delightful, delicious, and de-lovely. Afterwards, every time his dad heard anything by Cole Porter he would flinch and reach for his wallet as if to make sure it was still there.

As for his plans to become a doctor, Tommy had four years of undergrad and a little over two years of medical school under his belt and no initials behind his name because he dropped out after running to Hong Kong to find Ollie only to wind up being kidnapped and told his best friend was dead and not coming back.

As much as he was looking forward to someday working at his mom’s clinic, he lost interest in pretty much everything to do with school after that and spent the next three years partying and getting laid instead.

Those days were over now. The only women who would be interested in dating him were the ones who regularly trolled the lonely hearts ads of prisoners in the state pen in hopes of finally finding a guy who couldn’t leave them even if they wanted to.

Tommy reached into his lapel pocket and pulled out the piece of paper the redhead had slipped in there.

This was his life, he thought. He was twenty eight years old and he was looking at a career that involved serving stoners shitty little burgers at White Castle while dating women who liked to write fan mail to serial killers and who thought Osama bin Laden had pretty eyes.

“Fuck.”

Oh well, if worse really did come to worst and he couldn’t even get hired at White Castle, maybe he could whore himself out instead. Red was a lawyer, not only could she afford a booty call but she could also bail him out if he ever got busted for solicitation.

“Tommy.”

Tommy looked up to see Michael Graham, his father’s CFO, and Walter Steele heading towards him.

“I’m so sorry for your loss, Tommy,” Walter said in a low voice as he patted him on the shoulder, “For both of your losses.”

“My father’s death wasn’t a loss, Walter; it was a blessing,” Tommy said gruffly, stuffing the paper back in his pocket for now. 

“Tommy,” Walter said gently, “despite everything he’s done, no one would judge you for feeling grief over the death of your father.”

“Grief is the last emotion I’m feeling at the moment; at least when it comes to Malcolm,” he said firmly. “The only people I’m grieving right now are his innocent victims and the only thing I feel in regards to my ‘father’ is hatred and disgust. Even after everything that man did to me, I never expected to feel that way. I never thought the day would come where I would say the words, ‘I’m glad he’s dead,’ but I meant what I said at the funeral; Malcolm Merlyn was a monster and I’m glad he’s dead.” He let out a bitter laugh and shook his head, “I can’t believe I saved his life the night he got shot. Maybe if I’d saved myself a couple of pints of blood and let that curare do its job, Laurel and all those other people would still be alive.”

“What your father did isn’t on you, Tommy,” Michael said firmly.

“Absolutely,” Walter agreed. “As for Moira…I’m not defending her actions,” he said after a pause, “After all, I did file for divorce for a reason, but I’m not condemning her for those actions either. I know she went along with Malcolm because she was protecting Thea, but she should’ve told me what was really going on. Instead she left me out of the loop, she lied to me time and time again, and that I…I simply can’t forgive. We all have to live with the choices we make but, that said, I still love her and always will; just not as her husband; not anymore.”

“You don’t have to justify anything to me, Walter. While I love Moira, I can definitely understand where you’re coming from,” Tommy told him. 

“Thank you,” the other man said solemnly, “And I want you to know that, while I may not be Moira’s husband anymore, you, Thea, and Oliver will always be part of my family. If you need anything from me, anything at all, just ask and I’ll be happy to help in any way I can.”

“Thanks Walter,” he said taking Walter’s hand in a firm grip. “That means a lot to me; really.”

“Not to change the subject, but…” Michael paused, his voice lowering to a more confidential level, “I don’t know if you know this but there were a few reporters in the crowd during the funeral and the eulogy you gave is already on every network.”

“No, I didn’t know,” Tommy said with a frown. “I hope the Lances aren’t upset. I should probably go talk to them.”

“I’m sure they aren’t upset, son. It was a beautiful eulogy,” Walter assured him.

Michael nodded, “However, I’ve already gotten numerous interview requests from some of the networks asking if you’d be willing to speak to them about Malcolm.”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea…” Tommy said immediately.

“Actually, it might be the best thing you could do, especially if you really want to help Moira,” Walter told him. At Tommy’s curious look he explained, “After you spoke about Malcolm and the way he treated you, her attorney’s think you giving an interview confirming the fact that your father was the one who planned and carried out the Undertaking might help her get a reduced sentence. It might even exonerate her altogether.”

“You think?” he asked uncertainly.

“I do, but it’s your choice, Tommy,” Walter told him. “If you don’t feel comfortable talking about Malcolm then I’ll understand.”

“No, I mean, if it will help Moira then I’d be happy to do whatever I can,” Tommy assured him. 

“Speaking of Malcolm, now that he’s gone, you do realize that as his only living heir Merlyn Global is yours,” Michael informed him.

“Mine?” he asked in surprise. “But aren’t the feds going to, I don’t know; seize it or something?”

“No,” the older man told him. “We’re hoping to avoid that anyway which is why we need you to come to the emergency board meeting at Merlyn Global tomorrow.”

Tommy frowned, “I can but I don’t know how much help I’ll be. I only worked there for a couple of days. Well, technically it was a couple of weeks but most of that was spent filling out paperwork or sitting by Malcolm’s bedside in the hospital after he got shot. Physically though, I was only there for a few days,” he corrected himself. “I went to like two business lunches and a meeting, that’s it. Besides, when Malcolm cut me off he said he wrote me out of his will. God knows he threatened to enough.”

“He didn’t,” Michael assured him. “I was your father’s executor and he left all of his assets to you. Specifically he left it to his living heirs and, since he had no other family and you were his only child, you inherit all of it.”

“But for how long? The lawsuits alone are going to bankrupt his estate,” Tommy pointed out.

The older man tilted his head slightly, “I imagine there will be quite a few lawsuits but Malcolm was very clever in how he set things up. Most of his liquid funds were moved to offshore accounts years ago for tax purposes and all of his property deeds and stocks were placed in a trust several months ago, a trust he put in your name.” 

“My name?” Tommy asked in confusion as Michael nodded. “But Malcolm cut me off; are you telling me that I had access to all of it this entire time?”

“Yes and no,” he told him. “Malcolm was still your fiduciary so, until his death, he had sole discretion when it came to investing and managing your funds. However, while he may have stopped you from being able to access the monies in your trust fund, he never took your name off any of the accounts he set up for you nor did he write you out of his will. Since you had nothing to do with the Undertaking and are completely innocent of his alleged crimes, the only way anyone could get to that money is by suing you personally and no judge would hold you financially responsible for your father’s actions.”

“So none of Malcolm’s victims can sue his estate?” Tommy said with a frown. “That doesn’t seem right.”

“Like I said, they can sue but, chances are, they won’t win,” Michael reminded him. “However, before they even get that far, they’d have to prove Malcolm was responsible for the Undertaking in the first place.”

Tommy offered him a confused look, “What do you mean?” 

“Jean Loring, Moira’s attorney, got word that the DA plans on naming her as the sole architect of the Glades disaster,” Walter told him.

“What?” he said incredulously. “But she went on TV and said that he forced her to help him in order to save as many lives as she could! She even turned herself in; why would she do that if she was the one behind it in the first place?”

“I know and I agree, but all the evidence points to Moira acting alone,” Walter said carefully. “Malcolm made sure that everything led back to Moira and Robert. Everything; from the purchase of the company that developed the Markov device, to the fact that the vast majority of the properties affected by the earthquake were Queen Consolidated assets, and all of that put together…well, it doesn’t look good.”

“Wait, what assets?” Tommy asked in confusion. “The warehouses and factories Robert shut down? Why would that give her incentive to destroy the Glades?” 

“Insurance,” the other man explained. “After Robert shut the factories down and moved them overseas, we were no longer eligible for certain tax incentives so they were costing us millions of dollars in property taxes alone. The other members of the board and I have been urging her for years to sell those properties to developers or to do something with them herself. Even if she knocked them down to build parking structures or sold them to developers for pennies on the dollar, it would save us money by not having to pay taxes on empty buildings. The fact that she refused to sell or develop them, even though it made no fiscal sense to keep those properties, combined with the fact that she kept some fairly large corporate insurance policies on the properties, gives her a financial motive. Which is ridiculous, of course,” he added. “However, the DA can’t prosecute a dead man and, as Ms. Loring told us, someone has to be held accountable.”

“It’s somewhat circumstantial but still a fairly solid theory unfortunately,” Michael added gravely. “If she had placed the properties on the market, whether they sold or not, that might’ve been enough to possibly punch holes in the DA’s theory but, then again, that could’ve just as easily made things worse. They could argue that the reason she tried to destroy the Glades was because she couldn’t recoup her losses in any other way. In any case, it’s the perfect argument. Money is the root of all evil, after all, and people understand greed. What they don’t and won’t understand is how a man who, just a few short months ago, won a humanitarian award for his charitable contributions to this city, could set off two devices that sound like something out of a dystopian science fiction novel for the express purpose of leveling half the city especially since, unlike Moira, he had no financial motive for it; quite the opposite, in fact. Merlyn Global underwrote most of those policies so, had both earthquake machines gone off as planned, it would’ve cost Malcolm a little over twenty-five billion dollars. Not only that but most of your father’s holdings were completely unaffected by the earthquake and the ones that were affected were your mother’s clinic and CNRI; two charitable organizations that he personally funded.” 

“You can see why the DA would be reluctant to buy into the idea that Malcolm was the mastermind behind all this when everything points to him being a victim instead. Also, to those not intimately acquainted with your—Malcolm,” Walter corrected himself, “he appeared to be a decent man. In fact, compared to most businessmen of his stature, he comes off as a near saint.”

“Yeah, he was no saint,” Tommy said darkly.

“I worked with your father for nearly thirty years,” Michael said drolly. “One could even argue that I was his closest friend next to Robert, if Malcolm had friends that is, and I know better than most how less than saintly your father was. However, he didn’t drink, didn’t smoke, he was good to his employees and enacted some very progressive policies like allowing for registered domestic partners to be covered under the group health plan long before same sex marriage was legally recognized in this state. When Robert pulled out all his manufacturing plants and moved them overseas, Malcolm stayed and created more local jobs. Also, unlike the Queens, he lived relatively modestly. Your home was large but not a castle or some sprawling monstrosity of a mansion and, although he liked comfort and drove nice cars, wore tailored suits, and lived a wealthy lifestyle, he wasn’t one for conspicuous consumption. He was famous for brown bagging his lunch and eating at his desk which, along with the fact that he was a self-made billionaire, made him seem like a man of the people. He was also faithful to your mother during the entirety of their marriage; again, unlike Robert and Moira,” he said throwing Walter an apologetic look as he spoke. “And he was extremely discreet with any affairs he may have had after your mother’s death.” 

“I thought he was sleeping with someone a couple of years ago but I didn’t know who,” Tommy confessed reluctantly. “I thought it was his Pilates instructor or a personal trainer or something since he was obsessed with working out all the time but I never actually saw him with anyone. Then again we weren’t exactly close,” he admitted.

“I don’t know if he was or wasn’t, but I never saw nor heard of any women in your father’s personal life—at least not until recently,” Michael amended, “And, if he were dating a Pilates instructor, or a yoga instructor, or some other athletic young woman, I’m sure he would’ve flaunted it publically. After all, your mother was gone and most men in his position would use a younger woman, especially one with such a provocative career, as trophies to assure their stockholders and business rivals of their virility but not Malcolm. While he could be an arrogant bastard who was fond of upstaging his rivals in every other way, he never felt a need to prove his—pardon the term; cocksmanship to anyone,” he said apologetically, “In fact, he lived such a monk-like existence that, until Walter told me about his affair with Moira, I would’ve sworn up and down that he’d remained completely faithful to Rebecca’s memory.” 

“What?” Tommy gaped at him incredulously then snorted, “That’s ridiculous! Moira and Malcolm never had an affair.” He looked between the two men, both of them suspiciously silent. “Did they?”

Michael offered him a supportive look while Walter nodded slightly.

“Are you kidding me?” he hissed.

“It was many years ago,” Walter told him. “From what I understand it was just the one time, Robert and Moira were going through a rough patch and Moira…well,” he sighed.

Tommy stood there stunned for a moment as what they said sank in. “But…but I thought they hated each other. I knew he and Robert were friends, but Moira always acted like she couldn’t stand him.”

“And therein lies the problem,” Michael said gravely.

“What do you mean?” Tommy frowned, snapping out of his silent reverie to turn to the older man.

“Moira’s distaste for Malcolm was well known. She was never openly rude to him but she was definitely not friendly towards him and would often snub him publically. Until now it was merely something the society wives would gossip about over bridge at the club but the DA is going to use that to her advantage by saying that the reason Moira named Malcolm, even though none of the evidence they’ve collected so far leads to him, is because she was a woman scorned.”

“So…okay, it’s bullshit but I could see that,” Tommy shifted uncomfortably, “But, um, even if Moira did hate Malcolm because he dumped her or whatever, then why would she wait until now to try to screw him over? After all, you said this happened a while ago; like years ago, right?”

Walter hesitated for a moment before speaking, “Apparently, while I was being held against my will by your—Malcolm,” the other man said with an apologetic expression, “Thea mistakenly thought that his frequent visits to the house along with the phone conversations she overheard Moira having with him meant that they were having an affair. They argued and one of the domestic staff overheard what she said. When the police came to interview the staff, this woman told them about it.”

“But…” Tommy frowned helplessly, “But that doesn’t prove anything! And what about this maid or whatever? I thought Moira had all the staff sign NDA’s? Who’s to say she’s not just making this up to sell papers?”

“She’s not,” Michael told him. “Thea actually came to Merlyn Global demanding to speak to Malcolm shortly after the incident with the maid. Malcolm was in a meeting but Thea apparently got quite loud and several people heard her accuse him of having an affair with her mother. Malcolm’s assistant called security but, luckily, I was able to calm Thea down and made sure that the incident was kept quiet. However, now that all this is coming out, it’s just a matter of time before someone else corroborates the maid’s story. While the fact that Malcolm and Moira had a brief affair isn’t common knowledge, a few people do know about it. I didn’t, but Robert was aware of the affair and told someone about it; besides Walter, I mean,” he added. 

“Who; how many people?” Tommy asked in consternation.

“We don’t know but we know he told at least one other person otherwise the DA wouldn’t know about it,” Walter confessed. “However, we suspect that whoever the DA’s source is, it would’ve been someone very close to him. I knew Robert better than anyone and, while he wasn’t very discreet with his affairs, he was also an intensely private man when it came to his family. He wouldn’t have told just anyone about this affair.” 

“So you’re saying it was probably one of Robert’s ex-girlfriends?” Tommy asked carefully.

“That’s my guess anyway,” he confirmed. “Unfortunately, as I said before, Robert was quite prolific in his affairs so we have no way of narrowing down who it was that he confessed this to. It may have even been more than one person depending on how upset he was about the whole thing. Even so, it was just a matter of time before it all came to light. These sorts of skeletons in the cupboard have a way of revealing themselves at the most inopportune moments.”

Tommy shook his head, “Look, I practically grew up in that house and the fact that Robert cheated wasn’t exactly a secret. We all knew about them, even Thea, but Robert and Moira had an understanding. It’s hard to explain it,” he said ruefully, “but the unspoken rule was that as long as he didn’t do anything to bring that part of his life into their home, Moira basically let him do whatever he wanted. I know most people would find that idea strange but it’s just the way it was. I was even there a couple of times when one of Robert’s girlfriends tried confronting Moira at the house hoping to get her to leave him only to have her calmly take her into another room in order to set her straight. Less than five minutes later, like clockwork, the girl would leave the house in tears, never to return, and Moira would act like everything was normal. Robert would come home early with an expensive piece of jewelry or sweep all of us off on a surprise family vacation, and no one would ever mention it again.” 

“What’s your point?” Michael asked curiously.

“My point is that everyone knew about the affairs, _especially_ Moira,” Tommy told them. “And the reason Moira tolerated it the way she did was because she wanted to keep her family together. The only thing she ever demanded of Robert was that he not divorce her and that he kept his affairs out of the press which is why he always had his ‘friends’ sign NDA’s. I know that for a fact because Ollie and I once snuck into the library after one of Robert’s women dropped by and heard her say the words, ‘Did you have that woman sign a non-disclosure agreement?’ Hell, Moira and Robert kept stacks of the damn things around and would hand them out like party favors, so how is it that the maid and this…whoever she is,” he said with a note of frustration, “talked?” 

Michael sighed, “Because when a crime is committed, particularly an act as heinous as this one, non-disclosure agreements are no longer enforceable,” he told him. “In other words, if the police question someone, even if they’ve signed an NDA, they must answer honestly otherwise they could be charged with perjury, obstruction of justice, and as an accessory after the fact.” 

“But how would the DA even know to question this person to begin with?” he demanded.

“We don’t know,” Walter admitted. “For all we know they may have come forward on their own. Like Michael said, if someone has pertinent knowledge relating to a crime they’re obligated to come forward with that information, NDA or no NDA.”

“Then why the hell even bother having people sign the damn things?” Tommy huffed. “Does that mean this maid or ex-girlfriend or whatever can go to the press or--?”

“No,” Walter said quickly, “Not technically, anyway. If she does go to the press then she can be sued and most likely charged with interfering in an on-going investigation. However, there are ways around that; anonymous sources, cash payments, et cetera.”

Tommy’s brow furrowed at that, “Well then, do we know who this woman is; either of them? There has to be some kind of paper trail, right? I know we can’t do anything about whoever it is Robert told, but can’t we at least talk to her? Remind her that she signed an NDA and can be sued if she goes to the press?”

“No,” Michael said firmly. “Even if we knew who this woman was, which we don’t,” he looked to Walter who nodded. “If you approached her then you’d be guilty of witness tampering and the last thing we need is for you to get involved in something like that.” He placed a hand on Tommy’s shoulder and squeezed it in a fatherly manner, “Son, both Merlyn Global and Queen Consolidated need you right now so we need to take advantage of any opportunity we have to make sure the public knows that you had nothing to do with any of this and that you fully support Moira.”

“Yeah, sure, but what can I do?” Tommy asked helplessly. “I didn’t even know about any of this until you told me.”

“But you do know your father,” Michael said pointedly. “The DA’s case against Moira depends on proving that she wasn’t Malcolm’s victim but the architect of everything that’s happened. We need you to do what you did at the funeral; tell your side of things, talk to the press about who your father really was in order to make the public more sympathetic towards Moira.”

“Like I said before, I’ll do whatever I can but do you think it’s even possible for her to avoid prison at this point?” Tommy asked with a frown. “I mean, no offence; I want to help Moira, but there are people out there who lost their entire families. The fact that she acted under duress won’t matter, all they’re going to care about is that she helped Malcolm, period.”

“It’s a longshot,” Walter admitted, “but it’s better than nothing.”

“Walter’s right,” Michael nodded, “Even before all of this the Queens were seen as decadent one-percenters who only cared about themselves and their standing in society. Even though Moira was a Dearden and people in this state loved her father, and even though she chaired several charitable foundations, she’s always had a reputation as being cool and unapproachable, especially towards members of her staff, whereas Malcolm has a stellar reputation in that regard.”

“Yeah, well, again that’s news to me,” Tommy said wryly.

“The standards our society sets for men, especially in business, are very different from the way women are perceived,” Walter reminded him. “A man could be a complete bastard but, as long as people heard him once say ‘good morning’ to his secretary, he’s seen as approachable. Because Moira is a woman though, she’s either seen as cold for not fussing over every single person who crosses her path or weak when she does. It’s an impossible standard, completely unfair, but the DA will still use it to her advantage.”

“But the DA is a woman,” Tommy said with a scowl.

“Which will make her argument sound even more credible,” Walter countered easily. “If a man were to make that argument in court, he might be accused of misogyny, but the fact that it’s another woman saying these things will make the jury even more likely to want to believe it.”

“Walter’s right; the prejudice is already there. All anyone needs to do is spin it so that the jury feels it’s okay to jump to those conclusions and, unfortunately, the DA won’t have to try very hard to make Moira look bad while showing Malcolm in the best possible light, starting with the affair,” Michael said darkly. “The fact that they had an affair at all will damn Moira while Malcolm will remain completely unscathed, perhaps even more human as a result. After all, she was the one who was married at the time whereas he was a lonely widower ‘seduced’ by a bitter and conniving woman. While he may have betrayed his best friend by sleeping with his wife that can be easily forgiven because, other than that one brief indiscretion, he remained completely devoted to your mother’s memory and I’m not the only one who noticed that,” he added. “Again, most powerful men flirt, they might have a few affairs around the office or at least allow themselves to be flattered by pretty young girls, but Malcolm never did that. He was completely professional with his female employees, had strict policies against employee fraternization in place, and never took off his wedding ring even though his wife had passed away years ago. In comparison, Robert’s sexual proclivities and office dalliances were fairly well known as was the fact that Moira knew about them. After she had his office remodeled with glass walls everyone, including the employees at Merlyn Global, speculated that she’d done it so as to prevent him from getting handsy with the staff. Then there’s Malcolm’s parenting skills.”

“What parenting skills?” Tommy burst out incredulously.

“Again, we’re not talking about reality, merely the perception of reality,” Walter reminded him.

“Trust me; there is no reality in which Malcolm was ever a good parent,” Tommy scoffed.

“I don’t disagree but the DA is going to do everything she can to portray Moira as the villain here,” the other man told him. “Our side will try to make her appear to be just another one of Malcolm’s victims. The DA will counter that by defending Malcolm in order to prove that she was the sole engineer of the Undertaking.”

“And, again, because of the world we live in, people will view Moira’s failures as a parent in a much harsher light than Malcolm’s based solely on the fact that she’s a woman,” Michael added.

Tommy frowned at that, “What do you mean?”

“What he means is that, because Moira is a mother, she’s held to a higher standard of parenting than a man would be. All a man needs to do in order to be considered a good father is provide a paycheck and discipline. Malcolm is a self-made man and his cutting you off and forcing you to support yourself can be easily spun to show that he was a good father and therefore a good person. Meanwhile, because Oliver and Thea both used drugs and, as a result, had very public brushes with the law, the DA will use that to attack Moira’s character by saying she was a bad mother,” Walter explained. 

“That’s bullshit!” Tommy burst out then dropped his voice to a more confidential level when a few people turned to look their way, “Listen, Moira may not have been perfect but she loved her kids and Malcolm was a monster who didn’t give a shit about me or anyone else but himself!”

“Again, we’re not talking about facts but spin,” Michael reminded him. “She can’t lose this case, Tommy. Kate Spencer is only the interim DA but she wants to keep her office so she needs a win here or she’ll never be able to carry the election come November. Five hundred and three people are dead and someone has to go down for that. Since she can’t call a dead man to the stand, Moira’s the one she’ll go after even if that means skewing the facts and exploiting the jury’s prejudices. The DA’s office will do or say whatever they can to make her appear as unsympathetic as possible: Moira’s a businesswoman so they’ll accuse her of being greedy; paint her as a ball busting bitch. She’s a wife so they’ll portray her as unfaithful to her husband, a harridan, as someone who is jealous and possessive, and who lashes out at anyone she feels has betrayed her. She’s a mother so they’ll make her look like a bad parent which, unfortunately, won’t be hard to do since both of her children have been tabloid fodder for years whereas you, other than a few teenage escapades, managed to avoid all that.”

Walter nodded, “Unlike both Oliver and Thea, you’ve never been arrested. From what I understand, until you dropped out of medical school, you were a good student whereas Oliver quite infamously was asked to leave four universities due to his propensity for outrageous behavior, and Thea never graduated high school, opting to get her GED instead despite the fact that her mother and I both urged her to stay in school.”

“And while both Thea and Oliver seem to stay on the front pages of the gossip rags, over this past year especially, the few tabloid-worthy incidents you’ve been involved in were usually connected in some way to Oliver and that was years ago,” Michael pointed out. “In fact, the only time your father ever had to have his PR team issue a statement for you was when that boy fell down the stairs and died during that party four years ago. Even then, it barely made the papers. After all, the boy was a convicted drug dealer who wasn’t even invited to the party in the first place and no one there even knew his name. Since police quickly came to the conclusion that he was trespassing and found drugs and alcohol in his bloodstream but no illicit drugs on the premises, no one in the press was interested.”

“So because I’ve never killed a drug dealer during a party, driven under the influence, been arrested for vigilantism, or peed on a cop car, that makes Malcolm the better parent?” Tommy asked with a scowl. “Even though he was a complete bastard who abandoned me when I was eight, belittled me in public every chance he got, cut me off without a dime, and pretty much made my life a living hell just for shits and giggles he gets to be Daddy of the Year?”

“Again, you’re looking at the facts when it’s a matter of perception,” Walter sighed, “This is why we need to you speak to the press and tell your side of things. We need to humanize Moira and chip away at the idea that Malcolm is a victim and scapegoat. Even then the DA can always spin whatever you say to make it look like you were an ungrateful son and that Malcolm was a disciplinarian who made sure to offer you structure and real limitations whereas Moira was permissive and refused to hold her children accountable for their actions. He can then use that as a springboard to demonstrate that Moira believed her family to be above the law and raised them as such so that means she believes herself to be above the law and accountable to no one.” 

“But that’s not true!” Tommy insisted before backtracking a bit, “Okay, well, that’s not _entirely_ true. Robert and Moira may have paid off a few people here and there when Oliver and Thea would get into trouble but she was still a good parent. Better than Malcolm anyway.”

“But true or not; it will make sense to the jury,” Michael told him. “They’ll buy a money motive and look for any excuse they can to punish Moira because she’s a bad mother who cheated on her husband and tried to damage the reputation of her lover who, in death, is now seen as a plaster saint. What they’re not going to buy is that Malcolm, a seemingly sane and respectable businessman, blackmailed Moira, murdered Robert, kidnapped Walter, then killed hundreds of people in order to avenge his wife’s death, especially since Rebecca died almost twenty years ago. If Malcolm was so consumed by revenge then why wait twenty years?” he reasoned. “And why kill Robert Queen by scuttling his boat six years ago only to wait until now to put his plan into action?” 

“But, again; why would Moira go on television and confess then turn herself in if she was the one who planned all of this? If all she wanted was a payday then she could’ve simply kept her mouth shut and no one would’ve ever known about any of this. All the evidence would’ve been buried under the rubble of the Glades,” Tommy argued. “And why name my—Malcolm,” he corrected himself, “if he wasn’t part of it?”

Walter grimaced and pulled him further into a quiet corner, Michael following them, “The DA is planning on arguing that Moira panicked. They’re saying that this ‘Hood’ character had evidence of her crimes which is why he confronted her at her office a few months ago. They’re saying that whoever this person is contacted Detective Lance about the device and, once the authorities traced the Markov device back to Unidac and Queen Consolidated, she was afraid that the police would come for her since she was the one who arranged to have the device transported to a warehouse she purchased under one of her holding companies. A warehouse she purchased with monies she embezzled from Queen Consolidated,” he said pointedly. “All roads lead directly to Moira and the DA is claiming that she either paid or manipulated this Hood person into killing Malcolm by claiming to be his victim then used him as her scapegoat.”

“But where’s the proof of that?” Tommy demanded. “They can’t just say she paid off…the Hood,” he said carefully, “to kill Malcolm without evidence, can they?”

“While DA Spencer can’t prove that through hard evidence like a canceled check or a video showing her handing the vigilante a suitcase filled with money, there’s enough circumstantial evidence there to support it. From what I understand they even have an FBI profiler who will say that this ‘Hood’ character has some sort of hero complex and seems to be fixated on Moira and her family in particular,” Michael added, “For whatever reason he has gone out of his way to either target or protect members of the Queen family or their close friends such as yourself and, before she passed away; Laurel. Their theory is that this vigilante has some sort of borderline personality disorder and believes he has a connection to all of you, and with Moira in particular.”

“Yeah, that’s…um, yeah, I can—I can see that, I guess,” Tommy said neutrally as he folded his lips together.

“Something about how he sees Moira as a tragic maternal figure and how he became active only after Oliver returned from the island,” Walter continued. “It’s why he saved you and Oliver from the kidnappers but then allowed Oliver to be arrested for his crimes; it’s because he wants to _be_ Oliver. I don’t quite understand it but, according to Ms. Loring, their expert says that the Hood is some sort of split personality…thing,” he said dismissively. “Sounds like a bunch of hooey to me but what it comes down to is that he’s obsessed with the Queens. He sees Oliver as his competition for Moira’s affections so their theory is that she was able to exploit this by convincing him that she needed to be ‘saved’ from Malcolm. Her going on television with her announcement not only gave her attorneys a chance to muddy the waters but was designed to send a direct message to the Hood: Kill Malcolm Merlyn.”

Well, they weren’t _entirely_ wrong.

Of course, instead of saying that out loud, Tommy shook his head, “That’s not what happened though.”

“You know that and we know that, let’s just hope Ms. Loring and her team can convince a jury of that as well,” Walter said gravely. 

He took a moment to absorb that before nodding, “Okay, so what do you want from me to make that happen; what’s the plan? Just do a few interviews or…fill out an affidavit; what?”

“We’re going to need a bit more from you than that, actually,” Michael said before clearing his throat uncomfortably, “We want your permission to set up two interviews tomorrow evening that will be conducted simultaneously.” 

Tommy frowned at that. Talk about fast, “With who?”

“The Daily Planet is flying down Clark Kent.”

Tommy’s eyebrow rose up at that, “The guy who was nominated for a Pulitzer?”

“The same,” Michael confirmed. “We also want you to do an on-camera interview with Snapper Carr. He’s an investigative journalist like Kent and both of them work under Wayne Publishing’s banner so we can’t be accused of trying to spin things to our own advantage. Also, his show is national and we want to put as much attention on this as possible. The more sympathetic we can make Moira appear, the more pressure it will put on the DA to try to settle this as quickly as possible.”

Tommy looked between the two of them, “How quickly?”

“As quickly as we can; the less time the DA’s office has to make their case, the more likely they are to get sloppy,” Walter reminded him. 

“In addition to the interviews, we have the board meeting tomorrow to discuss where we want to take the company from here. Walter will be joining us as well to discuss a possible merger between the companies and then we’ll all meet with our media consultant and PR team before sitting down with Kent and Carr.”

“We were thinking about doing it at the mansion,” Walter added. “The media consultant Michael and I spoke to said that seeing you sitting in the Queen home surrounded by pictures of yourself and the Queen family would both humanize Moira and lend credence to the fact that Malcolm abandoned you and that Robert and Moira were the only parents you ever knew.”

Tommy’s eyebrows drew together at that, “Okay, but wait, go back; a merger? How is that going to help Moira?”

“It’s going to help her because right now both companies are in a very precarious position,” Walter explained. “Both are ripe for a hostile takeover and, even if we can get her out of this situation, she could still wind up losing everything.”

He blinked at that, “What do you mean everything? You mean she’d just lose control of the company or…?”

“He means everything,” Michael told him, “The house, the money; all of it.”

Tommy stared at him in shock, “What? How is that even possible?”

Walter shifted uneasily, “Robert’s personal financial situation was far more precarious than most people know. The company had taken a few hits in recent years and his shutting down the factories along the waterfront hurt us a great deal. In order to prevent QC’s stocks from taking a dip and causing tension with the board, he sold off some of his own shares in QC, making it so that he was no longer the majority stock holder, then used those proceeds along with his personal funds to make up for the losses. As such, his liquid funds dried up quickly so, robbing Peter to pay Paul, he signed most of his assets over to Queen Consolidated; the house, the artwork, everything, in order to avoid having to pay taxes and maintenance costs out of his own pocket.” 

“It was a good plan in the short term, but now the chickens have come home to roost, so to speak,” Michael said dryly. “All of his and Moira’s private assets are now considered to be company property. Even the Queen Family Trust is funded by QC and, if Moira is found to be guilty of mismanaging company funds, even if she is found innocent of conspiracy, the board can vote to take away her proxy and sell the company out from under her.” 

“They can also refuse to pay her legal bills and the only income Moira receives that isn’t directly connected to Queen Consolidated is the Dearden Trust which provides her an annual stipend of around three to four million dollars,” Walter added. “While that’s a significant amount of money, between her legal bills for the upcoming trial and the countless civil suits that are already being filed against her, that money will be gone in no time.”

“I’ll pay her bills and, after she gets out of jail, Moira and Thea can move in with me,” Tommy offered. “If she doesn’t want to live in Malcolm’s house, I can buy her whatever she wants. We can even leave Starling altogether. She and Robert practically raised me so it’s the least I can do.” 

“That’s much appreciated, son, but what Moira needs more than anything right now is for us to save her company,” Walter said clasping his shoulder with an almost fatherly expression. “It’s not just a matter of the money or the house; it’s the Queen legacy that matters most to her. Right now she’s fighting for her life so we have to do whatever we can to keep her spirits up and losing Robert’s company would devastate her. Already a vulture capitalist firm called Stellmoor International has begun to aggressively buy up stock in both QC and Merlyn Global. Our only hope in preventing Moira from losing everything and saving thousands of jobs is to join together and try to hold them off.”

“Merlyn Global is in a slightly better position right now than QC, but that’s not saying much given that your-- _Malcolm_ is being accused of murdering hundreds of people,” Michael added. “Unlike Robert, Malcolm always made sure to maintain at least sixty-one percent ownership of all stock so they can’t buy us out; not and get a majority share.” 

“Then why even bother coming after us?” Tommy asked in confusion.

“Because they want Queen Consolidated,” Michael told him. “The smart play for us, the one they’re counting on us to take, is for you to go along with the DA and claim that your father was the saint he wants to portray him as in order to protect our bottom line. That will drive down QC’s stock and force the board to vote to have Moira expelled from the company. Once that happens they can take over, lay off all of our employees, raid our pension fund, then sell off the company piece by piece.” 

“The people who work for QC will lose everything,” Walter said solemnly, “Their jobs, their pensions; everything.”

Tommy felt his stomach clench at that, “So…so what happens if we try to save QC? Will they back off, or…?”

“No,” Michael told him. “No matter what we do, Stellmoor is coming after QC and, if we try to help, they’ll come after us as well.”

“But you said we were in a better position than QC is,” Tommy reminded him. 

“We are, but that doesn’t mean we’re safe,” Michael stressed. “The only thing we’re ‘safe’ from is a hostile takeover but there’s more than one way to skin the proverbial cat. If we go against expectations and support Moira, which is what we plan on doing, what they can do is help to drive down our stock and get the rest of our stockholders to sell. Even with you holding sixty-one percent, once they get enough of our stock, they can force their way onto the board and make it very hard for us to offer Moira the support she needs.”

“Difficult how?” he asked carefully.

“As we said, while MG can’t be sold off for scrap in a hostile takeover as long as you hold the majority, if they can force their way onto the board of directors they might be able to stage a boardroom coup by persuading the other members of the board to side with them in order to prevent a merger between the two companies.” 

Walter nodded at the other man, “Once that happens, QC will be left vulnerable and friendless and, even with the majority of the stock, you could be voted off the board of directors so you’d be unable to do anything about it. Also, hostile takeovers and boardroom coups are tricky things. One doesn’t necessarily need a majority of the stock to take over the company.”

Tommy’s brow furrowed in confusion, “Okay, admittedly I’m not a business guy but if I own a majority of the stock, then how could they do that? It’s mostly my company so that means that I’m basically the boss, right?” 

“Yes and no,” Michael told him. “When Malcolm was alive he pretty much had the final word on everything because no one wanted to cross him but the board only knows you as…” he offered him an uncomfortable look.

“Malcolm’s slacker son,” he said drolly, “So what? Even if they don’t like me I could still fire them if they tried to vote against me.”

The other man shook his head, “That’s not how it works, son. Members of the board are appointed to their positions by the stockholders. While you may be the majority stockholder, technically you don’t control the board. All you can do is try to vote them out of office when the time comes to appoint new officers which won’t happen until January of next year. You can call for an emergency board meeting if you find cause to have them forcibly removed such as proof that they’re in violation of SEC or company guidelines, or they can voluntarily resign, but you can’t call a vote to have them removed simply because they disagree with you. In fact, several successful boardroom coups have been pulled off by shareholders who own as little as six percent of the company’s stock.”

Walter nodded, “Paramount did it with DuMont, Apple with Steve Jobs, Sherborne Investors did it a few years ago with Spirent Communications. Edward Bramson, the CEO of Sherborne, managed to get the backing of both Artemis Investments and Credit Suisse, and won majority backing for its resolutions to replace three of Spirent's eight board members even though they owned less than fourteen percent of the stock. After that he was basically able to take control of the entire company.” 

“Well that’s stupid,” Tommy scowled, his eyebrows drawing together in consternation. “And I can’t believe that Malcolm, being as big a control freak as he was, would let these guys have that much power over him or the company.”

“Malcolm had his own way of dealing with people who crossed him,” Michael said wryly. “However you are not your father—“

“Thank God,” Tommy huffed under his breath.

“—and I know of several members of the board who are eager to fill the void left by your father’s death,” the other man continued. 

“Not only that but Stellmoor may try to offer these board members incentives to vote their way,” Walter added.

“Is that legal?” Tommy asked.

“Technically no,” Michael said dryly. “Both QC and MG have their board members sign ironclad contracts to prevent things like boardroom coups and corporate espionage but that doesn’t mean it can’t happen or that it doesn’t happen within other companies all the time. For example, they could offer them a position within Stellmoor or a place on their board of directors. The SEC might kick up a fuss but there’s no law against someone serving on multiple boards so, unless they have definitive proof of conflict of interest or insider trading, they can always deny any wrongdoing took place.”

“No wonder Malcolm was such a good businessman; this crap is all shady as hell,” he grumbled before letting out a frustrated breath, “So what do we do?”

“What we want to do is buy up as much of the outstanding QC and Merlyn stock as we can, as quickly as we can, that way we can cut Stellmoor off and save as many jobs as possible,” Walter told him. 

“But you just said that even with as little as six percent they could still take the company,” Tommy pointed out.

“But owning more shares will still help our case,” Michael told him. “The less shares they own, the more tenable our position will be. Another thing working in our favor is the fact that Stellmoor has a less than stellar reputation. If they take over, they’ll gut QC and Merlyn Global leaving the board members out of a job. Right now, both companies are in jeopardy but boardroom politics are tricky and there’s this old saying about sticking with the devil you know. Most of them have been on the board forever and they won’t want to give up the power and control they’ve managed to build up over the years. If Stellmoor takes over, those board members who might be convinced to hand over the company to them, even if they’re offered positions within Stellmoor, would become very small fish in a very large pond. That very same thing happened at Blackberry last year. The company was failing and on the verge of having to shut its doors when another venture capitalist, Robert Chan, tried staging a boardroom coup. He had a $6 billion dollar takeover plan to rescue the company and, even though he had numerous successes under his belt with companies like Twitter, Foursquare, and others, the board completely shut him out because they didn’t want him taking over and installing his own people in key positions, potentially kicking them to the curb.”

“What we need to do is make a strong showing with the board; prove to them that we ready and willing to stand by this company,” Walter told him. “Buying up those shares will show the board that we have no intentions of letting go without a fight.”

Tommy ran his fingers through his hair and took a shaky breath, “What does Ollie think about all this? About the merger and us-- _me_ buying up QC stock?”

“Oliver is…gone,” Walter said with a grimace. “Apparently he had one of the drivers take him from the cemetery to a private airfield but we don’t know where he’s going or when he’ll be back.”

“But…” he shifted uncomfortably, “How are you planning on making all of this happen without Ollie here to sign off on it? I don’t understand.”

“Right now the Queen Trust is in possession of forty percent of the voting stock which is split equally among Robert’s heirs. In order to avoid having the board vote to have her forcibly removed from her position as chairman of the board, Moira has appointed me as chairman in her place,” Walter told him. “Afterwards, she signed all of her shares over to her children so, technically, she no longer has anything to do with Queen Consolidated which means the board can no longer use her legal status as an excuse to take over her proxy. Thea, being a minor, is unable to vote but, now that Moira is in prison awaiting trial, according to the terms of the trust Oliver has been appointed her fiduciary. As such he now holds her proxy.” 

“But you just said Oliver isn’t here,” Tommy pointed out.

Walter nodded, “True, but before he left he signed his and Thea’s proxy over to Miss Smoak.”

“Miss Smoak,” Tommy repeated slowly as Walter waved over the petite blond woman who was standing across the room next to Diggle.

After saying something to the other man, Felicity approached, offering him a subdued smile, “Hi.”

“Hi,” he said before looking pointedly at the fading bruises on her cheek and temple that weren’t completely hidden by her makeup and noted the fact that she was no longer wearing her wrist brace or ankle boot. “How are you feeling? I meant to ask earlier but with the funeral…”

“It’s okay,” she said her smile softening. “It’s my first full day out so I’m a little sore and I’m getting used to walking around in something other than ballet flats again, but still it’s better than the alternative.” Her eyes widened suddenly and she blanched, “Oh God, not that I’m making some sort of comment about Laurel or anything because that would be beyond bad taste, I just meant that I hated wearing that boot thing and that I couldn’t type with the wrist brace getting in the way.”

Tommy felt himself chuckle slightly as he automatically reached out to cup her elbow reassuringly, “It’s okay, Felicity; it’s fine. I know you weren’t talking about what happened to Laurel. So the doctor said it was okay to take them off right? Because it’s only been a couple of weeks and I thought they said you had to leave them on for another month?”

“He said that it was okay to leave them off just for the funeral but that I needed to put them back on when I got home. He also said to put them back on if my ankle started swelling up again, and if that happened that I was to make another appointment for an x-ray just in case. Other than a little soreness though, I’m fine. It was just a simple sprain anyway.” 

"It was a second degree sprain with a possible green tree fracture," he reminded her with a look of stern disapproval.

"It wasn't that bad. It was just bruised and he said a _possible_ fracture, meaning there was nothing on the x-rays," Felicity muttered as her cheeks lit up in embarrassment, “Anyway, I just wanted to thank you again for saving me. I know today has been hard on you and I feel bad knowing that you had to come for me when Laurel…”

Even though his stomach twisted at that, he tried to reassure her by squeezing her elbow again and offering her a friendly smile, “It’s okay; you have nothing to feel guilty about. Even the firefighters on the scene refused to go into that building and, even if they had, Laurel was…” he sighed, “She was already beyond anyone’s help before I got there. Besides, even if someone had gone in before the roof fell, she would’ve fought them on it. They’d already warned her several times not to go inside so, while I wish I could’ve saved her, there’s nothing I could’ve done,” he shook his head sadly. “The rebar that impaled her cut through her aorta,” he reminded her. “She bled out the minute Ollie tried to shift the concrete. It wasn’t his fault; it wasn’t anyone’s fault, we were just too late.”

The two older men looked between them with sympathetic expressions and Tommy flushed, “Anyway, what’s this about Ollie signing his and Thea’s proxy over to you? You didn’t mention anything to me about that when we spoke yesterday.”

A guilty look crossed Felicity’s expression. “Um, mmm hmm,” she hummed, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “Yeah, I didn’t say anything because he did it just before he left--today. This morning actually. Before the, um, funeral, which is why I didn’t mention it because, you know, you were where you were and I was…somewhere else.”

Tommy narrowed his eyes at that but chose to file her reaction away for later. He turned to Michael, “So that’s why you need me at the meeting; to vote on this merger? Because I could do like Ollie did and just sign my proxy over to you guys,” he offered. “Like I said, I’m not a businessman and they’d probably trust one of you more than they’d trust me.”

“While that may be true, for better or for worse, this company is still your legacy. If you want to sign over your proxy however, you can, but what we’d rather do is have you to take an active role in helping run the company,” Michael told him.

His stomach dropped ominously at that, “Active role?”

Walter nodded, “We want you to consider taking over the role of CEO.”

“What? No,” Tommy said immediately. “I can’t be a CEO, I could barely function as a VP for a week and, even then, the only thing I did was drink coffee and make paperclip chains.”

“I do that, too,” Felicity muttered. “They’re like so addictive, especially the colored ones because you can make all kinds of designs—“ she looked up at all of them and pursed her lips, “Never mind.”

“I can’t be CEO!” Tommy continued looking between them with a hint of panic. “I mean, I ran the club; sure, but that’s a lot different than running _two_ multi-billion dollar companies and I’ve never even taken a business class! I went to medical school and, even then, I didn’t graduate!”

“You went to medical school?” Felicity asked in surprise.

He shrugged, “Yeah, well, for a while anyway, but then something happened and I had to leave,” he shifted uncomfortably, “I could’ve gone back and finished but, by then, I sort of…lost interest.”

Felicity frowned, “What happened?”

“It was just something that happened while I was in Hong Kong—it’s a long story,” he said closing his eyes and grimacing. “Anyway, I can’t be CEO,” he looked to the two older men, “One of you should do it instead. I’m not qualified to run the mailroom much less the rest of the company.”

“The company needs a Merlyn in charge, not us. More importantly, they need a Merlyn who they can trust in order to remove the stigma attached to that name from the public’s mind. Besides, it would be an honorary position—in the beginning at least,” Michael assured him. “Walter has agreed to take point as COO while I retain my position as CFO, and Ms. Smoak has agreed to be CTO. In reality, Walter and I will be running the day to day operations while Ms. Smoak helps you catch up and muddle through.”

“CTO?” Tommy asked looking down at the woman standing beside him.

“They needed to put me in a position that would keep me close to you,” she explained. “It was this or making me your EA and there is no way in hell I’m trading in two masters degrees from MIT to take shorthand and fetch coffee.” She paused, “Do people still take shorthand these days?”

“I have no idea,” Tommy turned to the two older men, “Mostly because I’ve never had my own secretary before now because my-- _*Malcolm*_ ,” he stressed, “never got around to having me assigned one. After all, I was only with the company for _less than a week_.”

“I’m sure you’ll do fine,” Walter assured him. “We have no intentions of throwing you to the wolves, I promise. As for Ms. Smoak, she’s more than qualified to act as our Chief Technology Officer. In fact, when Robert recruited her he intended to put her in an executive position when he opened the new QC Applied Sciences division but, because of his death, the plans to build the new division stalled out and she was forced to take a position as an IT manager instead--a position she was grossly overqualified for, by the way. I’ve wanted to move her up in the ranks for a while now but never had the opportunity to do so. However, with everything that’s happened, most of the senior management in charge of Merlyn Global and Queen Consolidated’s tech divisions along with both our CTO’s have resigned. Both of them said that, with the companies in play, they don’t want any potential employers to associate them with the creation of the Markov devices. I can’t really blame them for thinking that way but, luckily, Ms. Smoak is a far braver soul than they were and has agreed to assist us in our hour of need. Frankly, I’m just happy that she agreed to remain with us at all after everything that’s happened.”

Before he could object again, Felicity placed her hand on his arm to cut him off, “We can do this, Tommy. Besides, once Oliver gets back he can take some of the load off of your shoulders. And, of course, I’ll be there to help both of you.”

“And, even if he doesn’t want to have anything to do with the company, once things have stabilized, you can resign or take an extended leave of absence and one of us can officially step in as CEO,” Michael assured him. “You could retain your position on the board then return to running your club fulltime or go back to school if you like. As I recall you were only months away from graduating when you left and already had an internship lined up in Metropolis, correct?” 

Tommy nodded, “Yeah. I wanted to get an internship at Starling Gen but Malcolm kind of messed that up for me.”

His dad had called the hospital’s chief administrator to remind him that Merlyn Global’s insurance group underwrote their malpractice insurance as well as donated their new oncology wing and, next thing he knew, his interview was permanently rescheduled. At the time he didn’t know why his dad was so dead set against him returning to Starling to do his internship but now he suspected it was because of the Undertaking. He wanted to keep him from taking over his mother’s old clinic for the same reason he tried shutting it down a few weeks ago; because that was supposed to be ground zero.

Michael offered him a sympathetic look, “I know your father was always very critical of you wanting to become a doctor but if you still want that it’s never too late, son. Malcolm was a…difficult man to say the least,” he said ruefully. “That said, you shouldn’t let your father’s mistakes as a parent and a human being stop you from doing whatever it is you want to do. You could go back to school, get another internship here in Starling; I’d even be willing to pull some strings if you like. And, afterwards, you can rebuild her clinic. In fact, I can’t think of a better way to honor your mother’s memory and to get justice for all the people Malcolm hurt than to follow in Rebecca’s footsteps.”

“I’ll think about it,” Tommy struggled with that for a moment before silently saying, ‘screw it’, “So this is just temporary; the CEO thing, right?” 

“Just until the company stabilizes and then, if you want to step down, you can announce your intentions to resign then have the board appoint a new CEO at the annual stockholders vote,” Michael nodded.

“So, what; eight months tops since the meeting is in January?” he asked hopefully.

“It may take longer than that. Mergers take a while even when a company isn’t dealing with the threat of a hostile takeover. We may need you to maintain your position with the company for eighteen months or so, possibly longer, but as Michael said we’ll help you in any way we can,” Walter told him

“So a year and a half, two years, huh?” he repeated dourly.

“Maybe not,” Michael said sympathetically. “If Moira’s trial goes well and the SEC allows us to fast track the merger, we might be able to get you out of this in less than half that or it may be as much as three or four years before we’re stable enough to choose a new CEO. Remember though, this is your choice, Tommy. If you don’t want to do this then we’ll figure something else out.” 

He was right, it was his choice. He’d never wanted to work at his dad’s company and he knew from the few short days that he had worked there that putting on a tie and sitting behind a desk just wasn’t for him. Honestly, if it wasn’t for Moira and Thea depending on him, he’d just as soon say ‘fuck it’ and let Stellmoor sell it all for scrap.

But that wasn’t going to happen since Moira and Thea were depending on him and Oliver, as usual, had taken a runner. 

Tommy felt a touch of resentment at that, not because Oliver had left—no, he’d known Ollie his entire life so the fact that he ran after losing Laurel didn’t surprise him at all. He was pissed because, once again, Ollie had left him holding the bag. Hell, had Ollie clued him in on his plans he would’ve probably gone with him but that didn’t happen.

After all, he was one of the main people Ollie was running _from_. 

He could still chuck it all though, run away like Ollie did and never look back. He was rich again. He could give up the company, take Thea away from all this so she could breathe again, and use his dad’s money to pay for Moira’s lawyers in the meantime. While it seemed cruel to leave the city while she was still in prison awaiting trial, he also knew that Moira would prioritize Thea’s safety over everything else and it was most definitely a dangerous time to be a Queen or a Merlyn, especially in Starling City. 

He hadn’t had too many people say anything to him directly yet, just some dirty looks and a few veiled mutterings. One guy called him an asshole when he stopped for coffee that morning but, then again, it might’ve been because he was just cranky about the line being so long. Still, as time passed and people grew angrier it would get worse and he knew that. You’d think if anyone was going to come after them that it would’ve been right after the Markov device went off but people had been in shock then. They were more worried about their friends, their families, where they were going to sleep that night, whether their jobs still existed, and a million other more immediate concerns that took precedence over coming after them. Now that things were beginning to settle down though, that was starting to change. The nightly news had begun doing a segment where they read off the names of all the people that were buried that day and, around that time, that’s when all the anonymous threats began coming in. Not many but there were more coming every day. It was just a matter of time before someone decided to take it to another level and he didn’t want Thea in the crosshairs when it happened.

Where would they go though? Tommy thought. The Undertaking had been the top story in the press for weeks now and Moira’s trial was getting more air time than OJ Simpson and Michael Jackson’s trial put together. Already he knew people were trying to contact Thea about doing some kind of movie of the week deal. Rumor had it that Lifetime had already cast Judith Light as Moira and Tony Danza as Malcolm in some kind of bizarre ‘Who’s the Boss’ meets ‘Dangerous Liaisons’ mash-up. No matter where they went, the press was never going to leave them alone; not in the US anyway. 

They could go to Europe or Japan, Argentina maybe? Possibly even the Caribbean? Or maybe they’d just go wherever the wind took them? That would be a good life; he and Thea could drive to the airfield where his dad kept the jet, throw a pin in a map, and just take off. Tommy was a decent pilot. Both he and Oliver had gotten their licenses back in high school, but he could afford to hire a flight crew or go commercial…as long as they weren’t already on the No Fly list, that is.

They could take a world tour and just be gypsies for a while before settling somewhere. If he let Stellmoor take both companies then Moira would lose the house but, just like he told Michael and Walter, he’d buy her a new one; a better one. Something more modern, or they could look for a villa in Tuscany, or maybe a chalet in Switzerland; someplace quiet where they could create new identities and live out their lives in peace. 

They could do that. There was something extremely appealing about that thought. He could almost picture it in his mind’s eye. Thea could go back to school and maybe he’d join her. They could send for Moira eventually and, when Ollie was ready, he could join them as well. 

No more Undertaking, no more Hood, no more Malcolm; just peace. 

For the first time in his life he could live in peace with the people he thought of as his family and do it without the shadow of his father hanging over them.

But then he caught sight of Felicity and a surge of shame washed over him at her look of disappointment. It was like she could read his mind. 

Hell, it was like he could read hers back:

What about the rest of us? 

What about the people left behind?

Yeah, he could run, see to it that neither Moira nor Thea ever had to worry about being homeless, but what about everyone else? What about their employees and their families?

He looked at Felicity and thought, ‘What about her, and Diggle, and everyone else out there who lost their families, their homes, and who depended on their jobs at MG and QC to keep them afloat?

What about the city and all the people his father hurt? What about that little girl in the ICU who lost everything; the one he bought the doll for? Could he abandon her like Malcolm abandoned him?

Just a few short days ago he sat at that meeting wishing he could make a difference in people’s lives. Well, now he could. He wasn’t a hero like Ollie. He couldn’t put on a hood and go after criminals or swing from the tops of buildings. He couldn’t even help one little girl whose name he didn’t know but what he could do was use this opportunity to save jobs and help rebuild what his father destroyed. 

It wasn’t enough. Laurel and five hundred and two other people were dead so it would never be enough, but it was something. 

For now anyway.

He glanced at Felicity again then grimaced, “I guess you’ve got a temporary CEO then.”

“Excellent,” Walter said and both men gave a relieved sigh. “I’m assuming that you’re staying at the mansion with Thea again tonight?”

Tommy nodded, “For now anyway,” he told them. “There’ve been some threats so, now that I know I have money again, I’m thinking of letting go of the staff here and moving Thea and myself to my dad’s— _Malcolm’s_ penthouse in the city.” His mouth tightened at his unintentional slip.

“That might be for the best,” Walter agreed solemnly. “If that’s what you and Thea decide to do, let us know and we’ll assign you a few more bodyguards and have someone look over the building’s security.” 

“I’ll let Dig—Mr. Diggle, know,” Felicity corrected herself.

“Excellent,” Walter said with a look of approval. “In the meantime I’ll make plans to meet you both at the mansion tonight around seven so we can discuss the game plan for tomorrow.” He held out his hand to Tommy who shook it with a nod, “Until then and, once again, I’m very sorry for your loss.”

“Thanks Walter,” he said with a nod.

Michael clapped him on the back and nodded as well, “I’ll see you tonight.”

As they walked off, Tommy turned to Felicity, “I guess we should let Raisa know we’re having company for dinner then.” He looked at her curiously, “So how have you been doing? Besides the lack of wrist braces and things I mean?”

“Me? Fine,” she assured him. “Well, I’ve been busy with trying to find Oliver and coordinating with Mr. Graham and Walter, plus living out of my suitcase has been pretty rough—“

Tommy frowned at that, “Living out of your suitcase?”

“My apartment building was pretty close to the center of all the action,” she said ruefully. “While my apartment didn’t suffer too much damage, the foundation was compromised and there was a crack in the roof. A few of the apartments near mine wound up taking on some water damage after it rained so the building manager is having to do some repairs before we can move back in. The good news is that, as a result, they offered to let me out of my lease early without a penalty but the bad news is that they only gave me forty-eight hours to pack up as much as I could and stick the rest in storage. Luckily I didn’t have much other than a bed, a dresser, and a futon I’ve had since college, but it’s still been rough. I’ve had to stay in a hotel the last few nights, so…”

“You should’ve just stayed with us,” Tommy protested. “If I’d known that you couldn’t get back into your apartment I wouldn’t have let you leave in the first place.”

“I appreciate that but--” she began.

“No buts,” he said firmly. “You’re staying with us; Thea will insist on it.”

She seemed to hesitate for a moment before relenting, “Okay, it’s just temporary,” she insisted. “A few days max. Once I find a new place I’ll be out of your hair, I swear.”

“Agreed,” he nodded. “But if you still haven’t found a place by the time Thea and I move out, you can come with us to the loft. It has plenty of room and, since we’re going to be working together anyway, it’ll give you more time to teach me the ins and outs of being a CEO—even if it is temporary,” he added.

“Tommy…” she gave him an uncertain look. “Look, I—I appreciate you wanting to help me out, and I can’t thank you enough for giving me a place to stay, but I can’t just follow you guys around like a stray cat.”

“Why not?” he shrugged. 

“Well, for one thing you don’t even know me,” she pointed out.

Tommy shrugged, “Ollie trusts you…even though I’m pretty sure you did something hinky with his signature, am I right?”

She flushed, “I knew if I didn’t do something that people would lose their jobs. Besides, I’m sure if I asked Oliver he would’ve signed it anyway.”

“I’m sure he would’ve,” he agreed. “But there’s also the fact that I saved your life, remember?” 

Her brow furrowed in confusion, “Yeah, but what does that have to do with anything?”

Tommy offered her a teasing grin, “Well, isn’t there some kind of rule that says once you save someone you’re responsible for them for the rest of their lives?”

She snorted, “I don’t think that includes making them your permanent houseguest and, for the record; while I appreciate you saving me and the use of your guestroom, I don’t need anyone’s charity,” she insisted. “I’ve been on my own for a while now and I can take care of myself.”

“I don’t doubt that,” he said smoothly, “but what if we need someone to take care of us?”

Her eyebrows lifted at that, “Pardon me?”

“Well, you’re obviously smart and you were able to keep Ollie in line, meanwhile Thea and I are just two trust fund kids who have no idea how to fend for ourselves in the real world,” Tommy said with a slight smile. “Before you guys sprung this whole CEO gig on me I was planning on embarking on a career in the fast food industry and living out of my old office in Verdant. I obviously don’t have a clue how to take care of myself while you obviously do so what I’m offering here isn’t charity; it’s more of an exchange of goods and services.”

“An exchange?” she repeated dubiously.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “We give you a place to stay and, in addition to helping me with Merlyn Global, you teach us how to be grownups that do things like pay bills and load the dishwasher. You can be the Wendy to our Lost Boys.” When she looked like she was on the fence, he added, “You have spent time with Ollie, right? Surely you noticed how hopeless he is at being ‘normal’. If you think he was bad after spending five years on a deserted island then you should’ve seen him before that. I’m fairly certain Oliver had never even seen a dishwasher much less knew how to turn it on and I know for a fact that Thea has never done her own laundry. I don’t even think she’s ever been to the drycleaners before. You could teach us all about that stuff.” 

“I’m not exactly a domestic goddess myself here,” Felicity warned him. “For one thing, I can’t cook—at all. I can barely use the microwave.”

“I can cook,” Tommy assured her. “It’s one of the few domestic skills I actually have. I mean, I’m no professional chef but I can manage eggs and pasta. Besides, we can hire Raisa to do most of the heavy lifting when it comes to that stuff. I trust her and she practically raised Thea and Ollie but given what Walter and Michael told us I think it’s best we get rid of the rest of the staff. The last thing we need is for people to be splashing our private lives on the front pages of the tabloids any more than they already are. In order to do that though, we need to learn how to take care of ourselves and not be dependent on other people. You can help us figure that out.” He held out his hand expectantly, “So do we have a deal?”

Felicity seemed to debate that for a moment before taking his hand and asking, “Okay, but would Thea be okay with having me stay with you guys?” 

“She really likes you so I’m sure she won’t have a problem with it but we can ask,” he dropped her hand to wave at Thea before turning to Felicity once more, “Hey, are you hungry?”

“Actually, yeah,” she said perking up slightly. “I mean, there’s plenty of food here, but…” she looked around the buffet setup in the Lance’s dining room. “Even if it’s delicious, it’s still sad food, you know?” Felicity’s mouth twisted into a grimace, “And I didn’t really know Laurel so it just feels wrong eating casseroles and rice crispy squares in her parent’s living room when they’re mourning the death of their daughter.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” he agreed. “I practically grew up with Laurel and it’s still awkward being here since I was never exactly Detective Lance’s favorite person. And then there’s the fact that my dad killed both his daughters,” he said grimly before sighing, “Anyway, Thea and I were going to grab a bite before heading home. I figured we could stop by your hotel, pick up your stuff, then grab some sushi or burgers.”

“Big Belly?” she asked perking up.

“Sure,” he nodded. “We might have to get it at the drive thru though because I don’t think many people would be happy to see either of us right now considering everything that’s happened.”

Felicity reached out to squeeze his hand, “People can’t blame you for anything that’s happened, Tommy; either of you,” she told him.

He squeezed back and smiled, “Thanks.” 

She looked at him for a moment before furrowing her brow slightly, “You know, I thought for sure you were going to turn Walter down and—“

“Take a runner like Ollie did?” he supplied for her.

“Yeah,” she admitted with a hint of embarrassment.

“And leave all this behind? Not a chance,” he said with a slight smile, “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” she said, allowing him to take her arm.

“Wait; hold up,” he said stopping by a trash can and tossing the paper the redhead had given him into the trash.

“What’s that?” Felicity asked curiously.

“Nothing,” he assured her. “Now let’s go get some Belly Busters.”

“Throw in a milkshake and I might just marry you,” she said then flushed in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—I wasn’t trying to flirt with you just now or anything. Not that you aren’t incredibly attractive, even though you are kind of scruffy looking right now--!“ she assured him then shut her eyes in embarrassment. “Sorry, I just—I’m so sorry.”

Tommy put his hand on her shoulder in a comforting gesture then smiled, “Just for that well timed boost to my ego, not only will I buy you a milkshake, but I’ll even throw in an order of onion rings.”

“Onion rings, huh?” she said with an almost relieved look.

“Well, you’re the one who brought up marriage, the least I can do is buy you a ring,” he joked lightly before leading her toward Thea.

“Just one? Yeah, right,” she told him, “You’ve obviously never seen a Smoak woman eat. Or buy jewelry for that matter.”

Felicity smiled at him then, a big sunny grin that made her whole face light up and, despite the heartache and sadness that seemed to permeate the air all around them, for the first time in months Tommy felt the knot in his chest begin to ease.


	3. Coconuts and Barbecued Monkey Brains

FIVE MONTHS LATER…

“The least you could do is offer us a bottle of water,” Thea told her brother before looking around the jungle that surrounded them, “Or a coconut.”

Despite his annoyance with the situation, Oliver went back to the hollowed out plane to retrieve a bottle of water and threw it to his sister before turning to Dig and Tommy.

“What the hell are you doing here and why would you bring Thea?” he demanded.

“Nice to see you, too,” Tommy said wryly, “But to answer your question, we’re here to bring you home.”

“I’m not going home,” he told them.

“Bullcrap, you’re not coming home!” Thea said forcefully.

“Thea…” Oliver began.

“No, Ollie! Five months’ worth of brooding on a deserted island is enough; it’s time to come home!” she snapped. “Mom’s trial begins in a week, there’s stuff we need to take care of in regards to the merger—“

“Merger?” Oliver cut her off, turning to Tommy in confusion.

“I’ll explain on the plane,” the other man assured him before looking up, “Wait, where’s the plane?”

“Gone,” Dig told him. 

Tommy’s face fell at that, “Gone?”

“You didn’t hear what the guy said?” Diggle asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“I was too busy being afraid for my life to pay attention,” Tommy admitted.

“He was having engine trouble so he said he’d swing back by in the morning,” Dig said with a sigh. “Just in case though we have the sat phone so if he doesn’t come back then we can call Felicity to send another one.” 

“Well, good! Now that that’s settled, you have time to explain to my dumbass brother how his little impromptu vacation to Gilligan’s Island hurt a lot of people!” Thea said angrily as she rounded on her brother. “You know, you put Felicity in a really tough position just taking off like that.”

“What do you mean? What’s wrong with Felicity?” he asked turning to Dig but it was Tommy who answered.

“This group called Stellmoor wanted to take over both QC and Merlyn Global so we headed them off by buying up as much of the open stock as we could with the eventual goal of merging the companies. We decided to rename it Queen Incorporated, by the way, in honor of Robert,” Tommy told him.

Oliver nodded, absorbing that for a moment, “What does that have to do with Felicity?”

Tommy sighed, “When we cut Stellmoor off at the knees, their pit bull; some—“

“Bitch,” Thea supplied.

“ _Person_ ,” the other man said instead, “named Isabel Rochev got the SEC and the cops involved with allegations that the signature on the papers you signed giving Felicity your proxy was forged. Now the cops want to speak to you and the board is demanding that you be present before they’ll approve the merger. Otherwise Felicity could be charged with fraud…along with a bunch of other stuff and, well, that wouldn’t be good,” Tommy said with a grimace.

“Okay, one thing though; I never signed anything over to Felicity except a check,” Oliver pointed out.

“That’s because she actually did forge your name,” Diggle said with a hint of amusement.

“Yeah, but she did it to save people from losing their jobs,” Thea argued. “Not only that but she told me and Tommy all about it the very same day and we both agreed that since you took off without so much as telling anyone where you were going, it was a good idea.”

“Only now Felicity could be going to prison and you declared MIA and presumed dead if we don’t get you back to Starling,” Tommy finished. “This Rochev…” his mouth tightened in anger.

“Bitch,” Thea supplied.

“ _Woman_ ,” the other man said instead, “is practically accusing Felicity and me of murdering you or, at the very least, hiding your corpse then stealing Queen Consolidated out from under you.”

Oliver’s eyes narrowed in confusion, “Why would she do that though? Even if Felicity went to prison—which I won’t let happen,” he assured Diggle, “And they declared me dead, Thea would inherit my shares in the company.”

“Not necessarily,” Diggle said grimly while Thea’s face flushed and Tommy’s mouth tightened in anger.

Oliver looked over the three of them in confusion, “What am I missing here?”

“Isabel claims that Thea isn’t really a Queen,” Tommy said at last. “She has evidence that Malcolm was Thea’s father.”

“What?” Oliver bit out. “But that’s a lie--!”

“It’s not,” Thea said quietly.

Oliver shook his head, “No.”

“Mom and Malcolm apparently had an affair and I was their sex trophy,” Thea said self-deprecatingly. “And before you ask, we made sure; Felicity ran a DNA test on me and Tommy to confirm it. I even confronted mom about it and she admitted everything, but not until I showed her the test results along with all the other stuff Felicity dug up and threatened to never speak to her again.”

Oliver ran his hand over his mouth in shock as he tried to absorb that information. Finally he turned back to them with a grim expression, “Still, our dad is on her birth certificate, he raised her, put her in his will—“

“He didn’t actually,” Thea said cutting him off.

Oliver’s brow furrowed in confusion, “What do you mean? Of course he put you in his will.”

“His will states that all of his living heirs would each receive an equal portion of the Queen trust, but Rochev and her minions are saying that _technically_ Thea isn’t Robert’s child which renders her claim null and void,” Tommy explained. “We can fight it in court, and we intend to, but it could take months. In the meantime, with Moira in prison on charges of domestic terrorism and murder, Thea being exposed as Malcolm’s daughter, and Felicity being accused of forging your name and God knows what else, there’s a clause in the trust which will transfer the proxy vote to the board of directors if you pull a no show. While we have Walter on our side, several of the other members of the board have been approached by Stellmoor and there’s a chance they could sell out, especially if Felicity and I are arrested for killing you and forging your name. Long story short; while I get why you ran, it’s time to come home, buddy,” he told him. “Play time’s over. You can come right back to your island paradise to enjoy all the coconuts and landmines you want, but first we need you to show your face at this meeting so people can see you’re still kicking.”

“Plus, mom’s trial and the wedding,” Thea added.

Oliver rounded on his sister, “What wedding? It better not be your wedding.”

“It’s my wedding actually,” Tommy told him.

He turned to the other man in shock, “What?”

“I’m getting married,” he said with a grin. “And I’d really rather not do it in a prison chapel with a ball and chain tied around my ankle; that’s for after the wedding,” he joked.

“Yeah, and while Felicity looks good in bright colors, orange isn’t one of them,” Thea agreed. 

“Felicity?” Oliver repeated incredulously. “You’re getting married to _Felicity_?”

“In May,” Tommy confirmed. “I wanted to do it sooner but she wanted to make sure all the merger stuff was settled before we head off on our honeymoon. And, after all this shit, I’m planning on it being a _long_ honeymoon.”

“But when I left the two of you barely even knew each other. The first time you even met was right after the Undertaking! And what about Laurel?” Oliver asked dumbly. “She hasn’t even been gone six months.”

“Yeah, but even before Laurel died we weren’t together and we hadn’t been together for a while,” Tommy said carefully. “And, as for me and Felicity; what can I say? We…hit it off.”

“You hit it off?” Ollie said flatly.

“Yeah, we met, liked each other, became friends, and things kind of escalated from there--quickly,” he shrugged. “What can I say? I know it was fast but when you know, you know.”

“It’s more than fast, Tommy; it’s been _five months_ ,” Ollie bit out.

“Five months might not seem like a lot of time to you, but it’s more than enough time for me,” Tommy told him, seemingly unperturbed by his tone. “I think if the past year proves anything it’s that life is too damn short so, while I get what you’re saying, it’s my life and she’s who I want to spend it with,” he said firmly. 

Oliver glowered at him, “Tommy—“

“Hey, look; the way I see it, I could play it safe and wait for years before making my move, or I could grab life by the horns so that’s what I decided to do,” he told him. “I think after everything that’s happened that I deserve a little happiness so I asked Felicity to marry me and she must’ve thought the same thing because she said yes. I don’t see how that’s such a hard concept for people to grasp. After all, why in the hell would I want to waste any more of my precious time deciding on something I already know I want when I could spend that time living my life and being happy with the woman I love?”

Oliver frowned at that, “But five months ago you were in love with _Laurel_.”

“I thought I was,” he admitted. “At the time anyway, but she wasn’t in love with me. She was sleeping with you, remember?”

Oliver flinched at that, “Tommy…”

“It’s okay,” the other man said waving him off. “I’ll always care about Laurel but we weren’t good for each other. I couldn’t see it at the time because I had no idea what a healthy relationship looked like but, now that I know, I can see that we were never really together in the first place. Laurel was always in love with you, she even tried telling me that dozens of times but I was too deep in denial to notice.”

“Denial?” Oliver repeated.

Tommy nodded, “I’ve been seeing a psychiatrist ever since the Undertaking.” He pressed his lips together as his face darkened at that, “After things calmed down I fell into a deep depression, started drinking too much, made a few less than brilliant decisions.” Diggle huffed at that but he ignored him. “Thea started going off the rails a little, too, but Felicity set us both straight before things got too far out of hand. She suggested counselling and, at first I wasn’t sure about it, but it’s really been an eye opener for me. I’ve been seeing a therapist twice a week to talk about my dad, Laurel; _you_ ,” he said pointedly. “We’ve even been going as a family for group sessions,” he said turning to Thea.

Oliver turned to his sister in surprise, “You’ve been seeing a psychiatrist, too?”

She nodded, “Yeah. It really helped me get in touch with all my feelings about, well; everything,” she shrugged. “By the time we found out that Tommy was actually my brother, we’d already been seeing Dr. Mendes for a couple of months so, instead of giving into all that pent up anger and confusion I had when you first got back from, well; here,” she said sweeping her arms around, “I was able to process my feelings in much healthier way. You should really think about coming with us or seeing her on your own,” she suggested.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Oliver said stiffly.

“Why not?” she asked sarcastically, “Because, I’ve got news for you; while Tarzan-ing it up on a deserted island and reliving your greatest PTSD moments might make for a fun vacation, it’s not all that great for your mental health.”

“That’s not what—I’m not ‘Tarzan-ing’ it up,” he said irritably.

“You look like you’re Tarzan-ing it up,” she said dubiously. “Swinging by a vine or whatever to save me from being blown up definitely felt Tarzan-y. Thanks for that, by the way. Even though you were disgustingly sweaty and dripped your musky Tarzan funk all over me,” she added with a moue of disgust. “God, I need a shower—not as badly as you do, though. Seriously, you stink,” Thea said flatly. “What are you trying to do? Scare all the monkeys and tigers away with your manly BO or something?”

“They don’t exactly have modern shower facilities here and you’re welcome,” Oliver bit out.

“Thank you, but couldn’t you have taken a dip in the lagoon or something?” she shot back.

He gave her a dirty look, “The last time I took a ‘dip in the lagoon’, I got bit by a tiger shark.”

“Maybe he thought you smelled like really old cheese?” she said with a frown. “You do have a kind of Limburger/feet sweat thing going for you right now.”

“Just—“ his mouth tightened in annoyance as he pointed his finger at her before rounding on Dig and Tommy once more, “Why did you bring Thea again? Felicity I could understand--maybe, but not my—our—seventeen year old little sister!”

“I’m right here,” Thea said rolling her eyes at him. “And, by the way, why is it okay if Felicity comes for barbecued monkey brains and coconuts and it’s not okay if I come? What? Is it because I’m seventeen or because she knows that you’re the Hood guy and I don’t? And, yeah; I know you’re the Hood guy,” she said drolly. “I’m also not seventeen anymore since you missed my birthday. You owe me big time for that, by the way. I’m expecting diamonds and a car; a big one. The diamonds, not the car. I want something sporty and expensive.” She paused, “The car, not the diamonds. Although they better be expensive, too.”

Oliver gaped at her in surprise, “You know I’m the…?”

“Yeah, but to be fair I’ve suspected it for a while,” Thea shrugged. “Mom, Felicity, and Tommy just confirmed it.”

“Mom knows I’m the Hood?” he asked in shock.

“Yeah, that one threw me for a loop, too,” Tommy said dryly.

“Ditto,” Diggle chimed in.

Oliver rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly, “When did she…?”

“Hopefully after she shot you and not before,” Thea said easily, “Although, with mom, you never know.”

Before Oliver could scrounge up a retort for that, Tommy butted in, “Look, I don’t know when your mom figured it out; you’ll have to ask her. We managed to get her out of Iron Heights and home on house arrest so you can talk to her about it when you get home. As for why I chose not to bring Felicity on this lovely jaunt, three reasons: One, Felicity is afraid of heights and doesn’t like to fly so jumping out of an airplane is not something she’d be comfortable with. Dig recommended we just not tell her about the jumping out of the plane part until we got here but I actually like having a sex life so I nixed that first thing.”

“I really don’t want to think about you having sex with Felicity,” Oliver muttered. “I’m still processing the fact that the two of you even know each other.”

“Two,” Tommy said ignoring him, “Somebody had to stay and mind the store and if Felicity took off right now with that Rochev—“ 

“Bitch,” Thea supplied.

“-- _person_ ,” he said tightly, “slithering around, we didn’t think that taking off in the middle of the work week to flee the country would look good. Lastly,” he sighed cutting his eyes towards Thea, “I didn’t want to bring Thea or Felicity but Thea invited herself.”

“What can I say, I wanted to see Ollie’s island and, besides, I’ve never jumped out of a plane before. It was cool,” the teenager nodded. “Roy’s going to be mad he had to miss it. Of course, he probably would’ve puked on the beach like Tommy did but it was fun anyway.”

“Not everyone can be as big an adrenaline junkie as the three of you,” Tommy said irritably. “I just want to get back on the plane and go home to my nice safe bed with my gorgeous fiancée and never have to even see another parachute as long as I live. To tell you the truth, I’ve only been here a couple of hours and I’m pretty much off island vacations, too. I’m seriously thinking about calling my travel agent and switching our honeymoon in Bali with a ski chalet in the Alps instead. I’d miss seeing Felicity in a bikini but it’s not like we were planning on leaving our room anyway.”

“Again, I really didn’t need to hear that,” Oliver grumbled.

“You think hearing him talk about it is bad, try living with them,” Thea said dryly. “They’re so sickeningly sweet together it’ll give you cavities and the rest of the time it’s like they’re trying to cause another earthquake with all the squeaking bedsprings and the headboard thumping against the wall. When they finally stopped sniffing around each other and hooked up, they had the walls shaking so hard I was picking plaster out of my hair for like a week.”

“I’m with Oliver; I really didn’t need to hear that,” Diggle said in a combination of amusement and disgust.

Oliver frowned at that, “You’re living with Tommy and Felicity?”

Thea nodded, “First we were all staying in the mansion but then we all moved to the loft for a few months but when mom was given house arrest pending her trial, we all moved back home to be with her.”

“We thought about staying in the loft but Ms. Loring, Moira’s attorney, thought it would look better if she had her family supporting her,” Tommy explained. “That’s the other reason we need you back: Not only do you need to be there to show people you still believe in your mom, but I have *got* to get Felicity out of that house. We’ve been engaged for less than a week and, thanks to your mother, she’s already thinking of divorcing me.”

Oliver’s eyebrows drew together at that, “Why? What happened?” 

“Isabel,” Thea said jumping in. “After she did her big reveal about Malcolm being my sperm donor, Felicity did her thing and started digging. Not only was she able to confirm Isabel was telling the truth, but she also found out a _whole_ bunch of other stuff.”

“Like what?” Oliver frowned.

Thea and Tommy exchanged an uneasy glance before the other man sighed, “That’s not important right now. The point is that Felicity did her thing and, even though she managed to bury most of it, we don’t know if Isabel has back-up copies that she could hand over to the DA. We also didn’t want to give Isabel another opportunity to drop a bomb on us so we made the decision to tell Thea about all of it before she could.”

Oliver nodded slowly, “And mom blames Felicity for that?” 

“Big time,” Thea confirmed, her own mouth tightening in anger. “We had a big blow up over it, too, and mom, because she didn’t want to take responsibility for any of it, decided to lash out at Felicity instead. She even threatened her.”

Oliver felt a wave of anger fall over him at that, “Mom threatened Felicity?”

“Sort of,” Tommy said wearily. “She didn’t threaten her exactly. It’s not like she tried to hire a hitman to take her out or slip some peanuts into her salad; she just preyed on her insecurities and made it seem like she could turn us against her if she tried interfering with ‘her’ family ever again.”

Oliver shifted uneasily, “So what happened?”

“She tried to move out because she thought Moira was right and Thea went toe to toe with your mom while I handled Felicity,” Tommy said easily.

***

Tommy went into their room to find Felicity packing, her eyes puffy and her skin mottled from tears.

“What happened?” he demanded getting in her way. “Why are you packing?”

“Because I’m leaving,” she said brokenly as she grabbed a handful of dresses from their closet and threw them on the bed.

“Why? Where are you going?” Tommy asked her as he reached out his hand to stop her, “Talk to me; what did I miss?” When she refused to answer or even look at him he drew her towards him and lifted her chin so he could look her in the eye, “What is it, baby? Did I do something wrong? Leave the toilet seat up again? What?” he tried joking but got nothing. “Okay, seriously; what is it?”

“It’s nothing, it’s just—I don’t belong here,” she swallowed then tried to get away from him but he tightened his grip. “Tommy, just let me go.”

“Not until you tell me what’s going on,” he said firmly.

“What’s going on is that you’re still in love with Laurel and I don’t belong here,” she said roughly. “I’m just…temporary, and eventually you’re going to realize that and leave so I figured I should get out now before things get too serious.”

“Hey, you’re not ‘temporary’,” he said firmly before pulling her toward the bed and sitting down with her beside him. “As for Laurel, I loved her, yes, but it was completely one-sided.” He shook his head, “Besides, that’s over now. We broke up long before she died and Laurel has been gone for a while so why would you bring this up now anyway? Did I do something--? Say something--?” he asked shaking his head in confusion.

“Tommy, no; it’s not you, it’s just--” Felicity turned her face up to his, her eyes welling up with tears, “I’m not like her. Laurel was gorgeous and amazing, she could walk into a room and own it, and I’m just... _me_ ,” she said quietly. “I’m not--my mom is a cocktail waitress in Vegas, okay? She wears tight dresses, talks too loud, and is basically the walking definition of vulgar. As for me, before I met you, I’d only had one boyfriend and I say inappropriate things when I get nervous. I just don’t fit in…here,” she said looking around the room.

“You do fit in,” he told her. “But if you don’t like it here then we’ll pack our stuff and go back to the loft. As for you, I love you and I love it when you say inappropriate things,” he said with a crooked grin. “And I think your mom is a hoot—so does Thea for that matter, not to mention Walter. That weekend we spent in Vegas was nothing short of epic and I’m kind of surprised she and Walter didn’t wind up getting married by an Elvis impersonator at some point. Thea was especially disappointed because she was really looking forward to seeing our family tree getting even more complicated. After all, if your mom married her stepdad, and with me being her brother and you being her stepsister once removed, that means that if you and I ever had kids she’d be like their triple aunt or something. ” He waited until her lips turned upwards at that before speaking again, “And as for you having only been with one other guy before me, well…” he gave her a naughty look, “While I’m sure Cooper was a smart guy when it came to computers and stuff, I think we both know that I’m the first person to _really_ rock your world, if you know what I mean.”

She sighed and looked up at him in exasperation, “Not everything is about sex, Tommy.”

“I know that,” he said, tapping his finger gently against her chin, “but I didn’t just mean sex…although I will again remind you that I was the first person, and so far the _only_ person, who has had the pleasure of introducing you to the concept of multiple orgasms, and I intend to keep it that way,” he said smugly. “However, what I was referring to is the fact that I rocked your world and you rocked mine back.” He gave her a steady look, “Meeting you has changed my entire life for the better. I love you, I’m _in love_ with you in a way that I was never in love with Laurel so you never have to worry about not being enough for me. With her I wanted to be different. She was so…” he shook his head, “I don’t know; confident in who she was and I had no clue about my life or where I was going. I didn’t fall in love with Laurel as much as I fell in love with the _idea_ of Laurel, just like Laurel fell in love with the idea of who she and Ollie could be together.” 

He shifted and took her hand in his, squeezing it gently before speaking, “But, as much as I loved her, that’s not the kind of love you build a life on, baby. It’s not like the kind we have; it was a selfish kind of love where no one ever really saw anyone. Instead both of us—all three of us; me, Laurel, and Ollie --decided what it was _we_ wanted then tried to manipulate the other person into going along with it. Before the island, Laurel wanted Ollie to grow up so they could become this power couple who would save the world together. ‘Laurel Lance, always trying to save the world’,” he said broadly. “That’s not necessarily a bad thing. We’d tease her about that constantly but, the truth is, Ollie and I were in awe of that because it meant that she had a plan for her life and knew where it was she was going and our plans only went as far as which girl we were taking home that night. We both fell in love with Laurel because she took charge of us and made us feel like we could be part of something bigger than ourselves but, as much as she wanted us to grow up, she never really wanted us to be independent either,” he said firmly. 

“You, however, never wanted me to be someone else, you just believed in the person I was,” he reminded her quietly. “Laurel, for all her wonderful qualities, never wanted to see the people we were. All she focused on was who we _could be_. She wanted both of us, me and Ollie, to fit into the roles _she_ chose for us. That’s why Ollie cheated on her over and over again before running off with Sara; she wanted him to change his ways and become this perfect husband and community leader because she saw his potential but he didn’t want that and she couldn’t accept him for who he was. She basically wanted them to become Moira and Robert but the last people Ollie would ever want to be are his parents. They might’ve looked happy on the surface but, the truth was, they were miserable together and he didn’t want to be his dad; the kind of guy who lives out of a hotel and cheats on his wife then slinks home on the weekends so they could pretend to be a happy family. As for me…?” He shrugged, “I don’t know if she ever had a plan for me. I was just a means to an end, I think, or, if she did have a plan in mind it was that I would suddenly morph into Ollie.” 

Before Felicity could object he cut her off, “Oh, I know Laurel cared about me but she never thought of me as the guy she was going to end up with. I think we can both agree that was always Ollie.”

“But Oliver ran off with her sister,” Felicity reminded him gently. “She hated him when he got back from the island.”

He shook his head, “She was angry at him but she never hated him. Yeah, taking off with Sara was a big blow and she went through hell after that so she was mad, but Ollie had cheated on her dozens of times and she always took him back because she was always a big picture person. She forgave him time and time again because she wanted a future with him, the one where they would save the world together. I mean, you’d think a smart, strong, confident woman like Laurel would’ve kicked him to the curb the first time but she kept going back to him because she’d convinced herself that she could change him if she just toughed it out a little longer. That was who she was; never give up, never surrender,” he said wryly. “I knew that but I tried the same thing with her that she tried with Ollie. I wanted to change who she was and make her love me but, even though we were together and she seemed happier with me than she ever was with Ollie, she kept pushing me away because I wasn’t him; I wasn’t the guy, he was. Part of me thinks that’s why I clung to her back.”

Her eyebrows drew together at that and she placed her hand on top of his, “What do you mean?”

“I missed Ollie and she was a big part of who he was,” he said simply. “They were two halves of a whole and I was Ollie’s wingman. I was the Goose to his Maverick, the peanut butter to his jelly. If Ollie came in first place, I was his second. That was the status quo and I was happy with that. Ollie’s the one who was Starling’s Golden Boy, he was the one the tabloids followed, but I was never jealous. I was just happy to be his brother; his family was my family, and I was content with whatever was left. When Ollie ‘died’ though, I didn’t know what to do with myself because I’d always taken his lead. Without him I was lost so I found comfort in the closest person to him I could find and she did the same. Did I ever tell you how Laurel and I hooked up?” he asked suddenly.

“You said something about her place, your place, your place again,” she answered.

“That’s right,” he nodded. “Before Ollie got back we were together exactly three times. The first time was right after Ollie and Sara’s funerals. I was at this bar near her place drowning my sorrows in tequila and getting drunker than hell. Laurel found me nearly passed out in the gutter so she took me home with her to dry out. One thing led to another and we had what basically came down to drunken angry grief sex; she was pissed at Ollie and wanted to fuck his best friend because he fucked her sister, and I just wanted to feel something besides…” he took a breath, “I don’t know. I wanted to feel like…like I wasn’t dead inside, like a huge part of me didn’t die when Ollie died.”

“Oh Tommy…” she breathed.

He looked into her bright blue eyes and smiled, “It’s okay, honey; it was a long time ago. The next morning Laurel basically told me it was a one-time thing, handed me a bottle of water and some aspirins, and showed me the door. Then, about a year and a half or so after the boat went down, my life fell apart again. Some part of me never believed Ollie was dead and so I kept checking his voicemail, email; I even kept my old number and my Blackberry charged just in case he called home. One day it paid off because—“

“The email,” she supplied and he nodded.

He told her that story before, months ago. They both wondered if perhaps he’d just missed Ollie before being kidnapped or that he might have even been the Australian in the room. It made sense; the tattoos, his knowledge of both Mandarin and Cantonese. It was one of the many, many conversations they’d had while unraveling the mystery of Oliver Queen while, at the same time, exploring the new friendship they’d formed with each other.

He even remembers how that conversation ended.

***

“I don’t know if I can forgive him,” Tommy said shaking his head. “If that was him in Hong Kong, how do I forgive that? How do I get past the fact that he ruined my life?”

“He didn’t ruin your life,” Felicity objected.

“He did,” he insisted. “Finding out that he was dead, hearing that; it destroyed me, Felicity.” He swallowed and rubbed his hand across his mouth as he leaned against her desk. “It was like my world ended and I left school…”

“Oliver didn’t make you leave school,” she said with a slight smile. “That was your choice, not his. I know that losing him was hard and that Hong Kong was a terrible experience—“ He snorted at that but she continued anyway, “but if Oliver was there, and if he tried to make you think he was dead, then he had a good reason for it.”

He gave her a rueful look, “And what reason would that be?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “We’ll have to ask Oliver when he comes back.”

“He’s not coming back, Felicity,” he said dryly as he looked around the ruins of the foundry. “There’s nothing here to come back to.” 

He’d been helping her rebuild Ollie’s ‘lair’ but to what end he had no idea. Personally he doubted Ollie would ever be back to finish his crusade now that Malcolm and Laurel were both dead but Felicity had faith that he would.

Tommy simply went along with it because it was better than sitting around doing nothing or drinking himself into unconsciousness. Besides, over the last few weeks he’d found himself growing addicted to that sense of hopefulness she seemed to carry around with her, not to mention the sound of her voice. It calmed him, put him at ease in a way nothing else had in a very long time.

However, Laurel had only been gone less than a month at that point so he was unwilling to examine those burgeoning feelings too closely. 

She shook her head, “He is coming back.”

“It’s been four weeks—“

“And when he’s ready, he’ll come home,” she interjected. “And, when he does come home, you two can talk and figure out how to be friends again.”

Tommy looked down at the floor and shook his head, “I don’t know if that’s even possible anymore.”

“Of course it is,” she said quietly before offering him an encouraging smile. “The fact that you’re here helping me put the lair back together means that you not only believe he’s coming back, but that you’re still his friend. You love him, Tommy. You guys might’ve had a tough year but you’re still the guy who flew eight thousand miles to find him with nothing more than an unsent email to go on.”

He sighed, “I guess so.”

Felicity raised an eyebrow at that, “So do you or do you not still care about Oliver?”

“Yeah,” he admitted reluctantly.

“And do you believe that Oliver still considers you to be his friend?”

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “He kept all these secrets from me, lied to me time and again, slept with Laurel after telling me to tell her I loved her and wanted to be with her--”

“And that was a really shitty thing to do but Laurel _chose_ Oliver,” she reminded him. “She chose to be with him and neither Oliver nor you had the right to decide which one of you she should be with. Besides, you and I both know you forgave him for that weeks ago.”

“Yeah, I did,” he said shifting uncomfortably.

She gave him a steady look, “Oliver didn’t leave because he blamed you for Laurel dying, Tommy.”

He looked at her in mild surprise, “I never said that—“

“You didn’t have to,” she said, cutting him off. “You and Oliver are a lot more alike than you’d think and I’ve had months to get used to his brand of brood. You both have a tendency to blame yourselves for everything that goes wrong but, trust me; the only person Oliver is blaming right now is himself, and the only person you’re angry at is you. Meanwhile the only person to blame for any of this is Malcolm. He’s the one who set all of this in motion. And maybe a little piece of you blames Laurel, too,” she added quietly. “Not for choosing Oliver over you, but for going into that building in the first place.”

He felt his cheeks suffuse with warmth at that and nodded his head slightly, “Maybe. I just—I know it wasn’t her fault but why, Felicity? Why did she go in there after they warned her how dangerous it was?”

“Because it was her life, her choice,” she said simply. “Maybe it was the wrong choice to make but it was her choice. It’s okay to be mad at her for that, Tommy. It’s even okay to be angry at Oliver for leaving the way he did. Sometimes the people we love make us angry and do stupid things, but that doesn’t mean we stop loving them—or that they stop loving us.”

“I just…I don’t know how I feel about Ollie or about any of this,” he said after a moment, “I’ve been seeing that shrink you suggested but I don’t know what to say to her. I go there twice a week, Mondays and Wednesdays, and pay her five hundred dollars an hour to basically stare at this huge African mask totem pole thing she keeps in the corner near her desk. I mean, how do I talk to her about any of…this?” he asked gesturing around them. “I can’t.”

Felicity moved to stand in front of him and, very carefully, she placed her hand on his shoulder almost as if she was afraid he would bolt, then said, “Once upon a time I sat where you’re sitting right now and said pretty much the same thing.” She smiled at him; a radiant smile that had his stomach clenching and his blood pressure shooting up for a different reason entirely. “And Oliver turned to me and said, ‘If you ever need to talk to someone about your day, you can talk to me’.” She smiled at him again and squeezed his shoulder gently, “You can always talk to me, Tommy; _always_.”

***

He remembered that moment because it was the first time he felt the urge to kiss her. The first, but definitely not the last, even though it took him another six weeks and a screaming match where she yelled at him for taking out Oliver’s suit so he could try to get some information out of that Rochev woman. He wanted to know how she knew about Thea and the intimate details of Robert’s will so he figured if he showed up as the Hood she’d fold like a house of cards. Instead he wound up nearly getting himself killed and Diggle had to patch him up while Felicity called him every kind of idiot there was.

***

“What were thinking?” she yelled. “Were you thinking? Obviously not, because there’s a _**hole in your arm**_!” 

“Technically, according to Dig, it’s more of a graze,” he said with a wince, holding the injured arm over his head as the other man put in the last stitch.

“Do not drag me into this, man,” Diggle warned him as he taped some gauze over the wound. “I’m with her; what the hell were you thinking? Do you even know how to use that thing?” the other man asked nodding towards the bow he’d found in his dad’s secret dojo.

“Not…really,” he admitted before clearing his throat. “But my dad obviously did so I figured--”

“You figured what?” Felicity burst out. “That the ability to shoot a bow was genetic?”

“Maybe,” he admitted sheepishly. As she geared up for another blistering retort that was sure to cause his eardrums to perforate, he added, “But I wasn’t actually planning on using it; I just wanted to look like I could.”

Felicity crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him in a way that was both incredibly cute but scary at the same time, “And then she shot you so how did *that* work out for you?”

Tommy cleared his throat, “Not good.”

“Not good? Not good! Did you hear that, Dig?” Felicity said as she jabbed her brightly painted finger in his direction, “ _ **Not. Good**_!”

“Yeah, I heard; loud and clear,” Diggle said blithely then looked Tommy in the eye, “And, once again, you’re a dumb ass.”

“Okay, yeah; I’ll cop to that one,” he said with another wince as he rolled his shoulder. Dig had numbed it up for him but it still stung like a bitch and it felt like he’d been punched in the shoulder by Muhammad Ali back when he’d been in his prime. 

Actually he felt like Ali and Tyson had both gone to town on him. According to Dig, in addition to the crease Isabel had put in his arm, he also cracked a few ribs. Apparently, while bullet proof vests stop the bullets from passing through your body, you still absorbed the impact and .45 hollow points fired at close range packed a hell of a wallop.

Not to mention the damage falling four stories into a dumpster could do.

Yet another thing they never show you on television. On TV the guys get shot or fall off a building and nothing; they just shake it off and keep going. Not him though. He wasn’t shaking off anything because that shit hurt. 

“Trust me; I have learned my lesson about putting on Ollie’s gear. I will never be doing that ever again, I promise you.”

The other man eyed him reproachfully, “Damn right you won’t. And when this graze Rochev gave you scars up, I hope it’ll serve as a permanent reminder of what can happen when you go out in the field with no back-up and even less training. Even though you might not approve of what it is we do here, this isn’t a game. I served three tours in a forward area attached to an elite Special Forces unit before joining this team, and I don’t know where the hell Oliver got his training other than on the island, but I can tell you that he didn’t just pick up a bow one day and say, ‘I’ll bet I can shoot this,’” the other man said acerbically.

“I know and, like I said; lesson learned,” Tommy vowed once again.

“I’m glad because those are real bullets flying at us out there; real stakes,” he said pointing towards the staircase leading to the club. “This isn’t a video game or a rousing game of laser tag,” he said sarcastically. “You don’t get extra lives or do-overs. When you put on that hood and someone shoots at you, you could die. You’re just lucky you put a vest on under Oliver’s hood, otherwise those wouldn’t be bruises on your chest; they’d be bullet holes.”

Tommy looked down at the mottled and angry bruises all over his chest and adjusted the bandages Felicity had wrapped around his ribs uncomfortably, “Yeah, that reminds me; I should probably buy you a new vest since that one has, you know; holes in it now.”

“Don’t worry about it, that’s what it’s for,” Dig said gruffly before examining the graze on the inside of his arm again. The bullet caught him just a few inches below his armpit when he threw out his arms to jump out the window and onto the fire escape. 

Apparently the Kevlar in Ollie’s hood was thinner there so, while it didn’t go too deep, it still left a nasty wound. To make matters worse, Isabel turned out to be a freaky fucking ninja who chased him down fourteen stories before throwing him off the side of the fucking building. That ass whupping she gave him, along with his bruised and cracked ribs from the multiple shots she fired at his chest, left him curled up in a fetal position and bleeding like a stuck pig in a dumpster until Diggle showed up out of the blue to take him back to the foundry

“You’re lucky Oliver has at least some Kevlar built into that hood of his, otherwise you’d be dead.” He poked his finger near the bandage causing Tommy to yelp despite the lidocaine in his arm, “For future reference, Mr. ‘I dropped out of medical school’, that’s the brachial artery. Had you not moved when you did, and had she been using armor piercing rounds, we’d be planning your funeral right now and Felicity, Thea, along with everyone else who works for Merlyn Global and Queen Consolidated, would be screwed.”

“I get that,” he said tightly, dropping his arm carefully.

“Do you?” Felicity threw back, her eyes unusually bright and her cheeks flushed as she glared at him.

“Yeah, I do,” he promised her.

“Are you drinking again? Is that what happened?” she demanded with a livid expression. “You got drunk and decided to be a hero?”

“No!” he burst out, “I haven’t had a drink in weeks, not even wine with dinner and you know that!”

“I do?” Felicity said tightly. 

“Yeah, you do,” he bit out. “You know because we live together. Hell, we’re together practically 24/7 so if anyone would know, it’s you!”

“Well, pardon me for doubting my observational skills when it comes to you, Mr. Merlyn, because I obviously missed the fact that you seemed to have developed a death wish all of the sudden!” she yelled back.

“I don’t have a death wish,” he said tightly. “I was trying to—“

“To get yourself killed!” Felicity’s voice echoed off the walls as they stared daggers at one another. 

Dig looked between them and sighed, “Well, I’m tired so I’m going home to wash Merlyn’s blood off of me and go to bed. You okay or do I need to drive the two of you back to the loft?” he asked looking to Felicity.

“I can handle it,” she said clearing her throat, her voice strained from a combination of anger and adrenaline. “I’ll leave my car here tonight and we’ll take Tommy’s home since it’s probably more comfortable and he can stretch out a little. Also, if he starts bleeding again I’d rather he ruin his upholstery than mine,” she added in a grumble. “Oliver had to pay some Bratva guys to reupholster my seats after Moira shot him and I am not up to asking those guys for another favor.”

“Thanks for that,” Tommy muttered.

“Are you going to be okay handling him though?” the other man asked ignoring him. “The epinephrine in the lidocaine should help control the bleeding if any of the stitches pop but he still lost a couple of pints tonight; you might need me to help you get him inside the elevator.”

“I’m right here,” Tommy said irritably. “And, for the record, I’m fine,” he said looking between them. “I’m sore and my arm burns like hell but, trust me, I’ve been a bottle of Jack and two fifths of gin in and still managed to walk a straight line. Mind you, I haven’t had to drunk walk my ass across the parking lot in months, not since I _stopped drinking_ ,” he said giving Felicity a pointed look, “but even though I’m out of practice, I’m pretty sure I can manage to walk to my car and then from the parking structure to the elevator just fine. I’m a big boy. I can even manage to put my jammies on all by myself.” He paused, “If I wore jammies, that is, because I don’t.” He gave a sort of half shrug since anything more hurt too much. “I like to hang free while I’m riding the magic carpet to Dreamland, if you know what I mean. Plus it’s easier access in case I have company. Or don’t have company. It’s been kind of lonely lately, especially since I stopped going to clubs because of the no drinking thing.” 

“I don’t need to know the details of your pitiful love life, Merlyn,” Diggle said wryly. 

He blinked groggily, “Yeah, I think the painkillers you gave me are starting to kick in. That’s some good shit, by the way, and if anyone would know it’s me. I might need to score some more of those from you sometime. You know, when I’m not actually hurt that way I can really enjoy it.” He looked at Felicity guiltily, “Which won’t be happening because, in addition to not drinking, I’m not allowed to do that either.” He looked at him furtively and whispered, “But, you know, if you do happen to have a couple of extra on you…?”

“We’ll be fine,” Felicity promised after Dig looked at her pointedly. “Now go home; I’ve got this. We’ll head out as soon as I’m done yelling at Tommy which, admittedly, could take a while. On the bright side it might actually sober him up,” she said throwing him another dirty look.

Diggle gave him an almost sympathetic look at that, “Maybe you should’ve left off the vest after all.”

“Tell me about it,” Tommy muttered. “Who knew Felicity had such a loud voice?”

“I did, but only because I’ve heard her use it to tell Oliver to get his head out of his ass,” the other man said wryly. 

“I can’t believe I got my ass kicked by Bolshevik Barbie,” he grumbled. “And now I’m going to get it kicked again by Brainy Computer Barbie.” He looked up at Dig miserably, “Please take me home with you. If this keeps up I’m going to wake up tomorrow looking like a Ken doll from the waist down.”

“What’s with all the Barbie references?” Dig asked with a snort.

“I’m not sure,” Tommy mused. “I think it has something to do with the fact that Thea kept singing ‘Barbie Girl’ while I was trying to cook breakfast. God, I hate that song.” 

“Oh yeah; he’s gone,” Dig said dryly. “I’ll stop by the loft tomorrow to check the stitches again and pick up some antibiotics from my contact so you don’t get a staph infection,” he told them as he pulled on his jacket and headed up the stairs.

“Yeah, ‘cause that would suck! Thanks for sewing me up, by the way! I owe you one, buddy!” Tommy called out as the other man waved and slipped out the door. He sighed then turned to Felicity, “I just wanted to say— _**OW!**_ ” he yelped as she smacked him upside his head.

“What is _***wrong***_ with you?” she raged.

“Besides the concussion you just gave me?” he asked as he rubbed his ear, “Goddamn, woman! That hurt almost as bad as getting shot did! Are you wearing brass knuckles or something; shit!”

Tears streamed down her face as she scowled at him, “You could’ve died tonight, Tommy,” she said brokenly. “If Dig and I hadn’t planted those bugs in her hotel room and heard what was happening, she could’ve killed you or the police could’ve seen you in Oliver’s hood and shot you because they thought you were him! Do you understand that? And then there’s the fact that you **fell** four stories into a dumpster! What if you had fallen from the eighteenth floor instead or the hotel hadn’t been redecorating and the dumpster had been filled with glass instead of old carpets? Or what if the lid had been closed? You could’ve bounced off and landed on the concrete and broken your neck! I just can’t believe that you would do something this--!” she made a pained noise and shook her head, unable to speak.

“Hey,” he said soothingly as he grabbed her hand and drew her closer. “I’m fine.” At her less than happy expression he corrected himself, “I mean, obviously I’m not ‘fine’ in the traditional sense, but I’m alive so that’s something.”

Felicity choked and began to cry in earnest at that so he pulled her into his chest despite the discomfort it caused him and began to stroke her hair that was now coming loose from its usually neat ponytail.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, kissing her hair gently. “I’m sorry, honey; I didn’t mean to scare you but I’m okay, I swear.”

“Don’t ever do that to me again,” she hiccupped against him.

“I won’t, I promise. I have definitely learned my lesson and will not be pursuing a career in being shot at or jumping off of buildings anytime soon since I apparently suck at it,” he said lifting her chin so he could brush her tears away with his fingertips. He looked deeply into her eyes and smiled, “So, just out of curiosity, do you yell and cry this much whenever Ollie gets his ass kicked?”

“No,” she sniffled, “But then he…” 

Tommy’s eyes searched hers, “He what?”

“He’s not _you_ ,” she said at last.

He’s not _you_.

It could’ve meant anything depending on the inflection.

‘He’s not you,’ simply spoken without any particular emphasis could refer to the fact that, unlike him, Ollie actually knew what he was doing. It could’ve easily been something Dig would say as a chastisement of his foolhardy and frankly stupid decision to go out that night all on his own without telling anyone.

‘ _He’s_ not you,’ with emphasis on the first word was usually how he’d hear that phrase but it always felt backwards to him. Instead of saying, ‘ _He’s_ not you,’ what they usually meant was ‘ _You’re_ not him,’ meaning that the person in front of them fell short of what, or rather _who_ it was they really wanted. 

Yeah, he’d heard that one a lot and by a lot of different people.

Felicity, though, she didn’t say it like that. Instead she said, ‘He’s not _you_.’

Something in the way she said it, the look in her eyes when she said ‘you’, the way she looked at _him_ , really looked at him and saw only the man standing in front of her, caused his heart to stop for just a moment as he stared at her in a mixture of shock and disbelief. He wasn’t used to that. Tommy wasn’t used to people seeing him, looking at him, and wanting to see only him and not the person he wasn’t.

He’s not _you_.

The way she said those words combined with the look in her eyes as she stared back had that last wall tumbling down and his mouth descending on hers.

He kissed her--finally. 

After weeks of wanting to kiss her and not having the courage to do it, he kissed her. It wasn’t this passionate clash of mouths; all teeth and tongue, or a light brush of flesh on flesh. It was a kiss in the best sense of the word, in the _realest_ sense of the word. There was something so tangible in the way they kissed, like this was something he could own. She wasn’t kissing Ollie and using him as a stand-in. It wasn’t a second best kiss he was tasting on her lips, it wasn’t a stolen moment or a borrowed emotion; he _owned that kiss_. 

That kiss belonged to him and only to him.

And he, in turn, was kissing her back.

Her and only _her_.

It was a profound moment for him, probably the most profound moment of his entire life next to being born. In fact, he seriously doubted that anything would ever top it. 

Not his wedding day because this kiss would lead to the one that came after the minister gave them his blessing and the rabbi offered him a sacrificial wine glass wrapped in linen as a reminder of the destruction of the First Temple of Jerusalem and to demonstrate how life is so fragile that they should enjoy every day as if it were their last.

And they would. He knew that. He knew in his bones that there would be sorrow, pain, fear, doubt, but laughter and love to ease the sting of all of it. There would be bitter, but the sweet would last a lifetime.

Not the birth of his first child because this kiss would be the spark that would create that life and the others that would come after.

And there would be many. Their home would be filled with the chaos of shouting voices and herds of children stomping and slamming doors. There would be broken vases and crayon marks on walls. There would be flea infested mutts and mangy stray cats dragged home and premature gray hairs caused by stress.

And he knew, at that moment, that this woman held his future inside of that kiss and it was glorious.

Not even his death would equal that moment because he knew he would die with that kiss burned in his memory and his last thought would be of her; so young, so vibrant, so beautiful.

So his.

She was his and he was hers and that kiss belonged to them.

There was a silence and stillness to the moment as well. Their lips slid over one another in perfect synchronicity, they didn’t even breathe. Time stopped then rushed forward and back as if they were caught in an impossible eddy of minutes and hours, centuries and millennia. They kissed as if they’d always kissed that way even though this was the first. They kissed as if kissing for them was an everyday thing, like it was something they’d perfected over time; like it was something they’d always done and would always do and, at that moment, Tommy thought, ‘Maybe it was.’

Maybe kissing this woman was something he forgot, like he’d been kissing her most of his life but, until that very moment, he’d forgotten about it. It was like he had amnesia and as soon as his lips met hers, the fog lifted. The pain in his arm and chest faded away, the haze of the Oxycodone Diggle had given him cleared up, and it all came flooding back; memories of lifetimes spent kissing this woman. Centuries of his flesh meeting hers and tasting her on his tongue.

Kissing her came as naturally as breathing to him; it was almost involuntary, that’s how easy it was. After all, they’d been kissing like this since the beginning of time but, for some strange reason, he’d simply forgotten.

In any case, as soon as he was done kissing her, he vowed to keep kissing her for the rest of his life so he’d never forget what it felt like to kiss Felicity Smoak ever again. 

***

Things between them escalated fairly quickly after that. Relatively speaking anyway. He was ready to go full throttle that same night, broken ribs and bullet wounds aside. As far as he was concerned, his future was written on the wall and signed with her name. Felicity, however, was a bit more reluctant. She made a halfhearted effort to slow them down, arguing that it had been a combination of blood loss and painkillers that had them making out like a couple of teenagers in the middle of the foundry, at least until his injuries prevented them from going any further. That didn’t stop him from trying to convince her otherwise though. 

He’d felt more alive after that one kiss than he’d felt in his entire life. It wasn’t just an after effect of nearly dying either. It took him two more weeks of stolen kisses and laying on the charm to convince her to allow him to prove that to her by taking her out to dinner. He’d even had to rope Thea into wearing her down but, after days of him begging and sending her enough flowers to fill a parade float, she finally agreed to one date. 

They went to dinner at this smoky little jazz club where they ate barbecue with their fingers and danced until her feet hurt, followed by a second kiss goodnight outside her bedroom door that somehow wound up with him kissing her on the bed, and the next thing he knew she was lying naked in his arms and he was kissing her good morning.

After that he stopped kissing her outside her bedroom door or on her bed because she moved into his room, and his room became _their_ room.

And he’d be damned if he’d let it go back to being just his room again.

***

He took a breath and gathered his thoughts once more.

“After Hong Kong I felt…useless,” he said simply, “Worse than useless; I felt like I’d failed Ollie. My-- _Malcolm_ ,” he bit out, “loved telling me how much of a failure I was and, after I dropped out of school it was like Christmas morning for him because I proved everything he’d ever said about me was true. Stuff like how I was never going to be a doctor and that sending me to medical school was a waste of time and money. That I couldn’t possibly carry on my mother’s legacy because I was too lazy to put in the effort it would take to actually be successful at something other than humiliating myself in public. That I was just like Ollie; a privileged trust fund brat who was dependent on his money because I would never be able to survive on my own.”

“He was wrong,” she said firmly. “You’re none of those things.”

“Maybe, maybe not, but for a while there I thought he was right,” he admitted. “In fact, I was determined to prove he was, so I waited until he went overseas on a business trip, practically took out a full page ad in the paper that said, ‘Come help me wreck my dad’s house and drink up all his booze’, then threw the party to end all parties. It was huge,” he told her. “And, believe me; I have thrown some epic parties before. I…told you about the thing with the booze in my dad’s pool, right?” he frowned.

She sighed and arched an eyebrow at that, “And I told you that if you’d actually swam in a pool filled with pure liquor that you would’ve died of alcohol poisoning, right?”

“Well, then I am one lucky son of a bitch because, hey!” he said jokingly. “In any case, that party was…a complete disaster,” he admitted, his mood dimming a bit. “Some guy I’d never even seen before crashed the party, got loaded, and took a header off the staircase. He wound up breaking his neck,” he said tightly. “And, let me tell you, nothing ruins a good party faster than a dead body. The cops came, I nearly got arrested and probably would’ve had Laurel not talked her dad down. He showed up drunk,” he said quietly. “He’d started drinking fairly heavily after Sara died and some words were exchanged. He said some pretty hurtful things to Laurel about how she was a gold digger and that was why she was always chasing after guys like me and Oliver before his partner got him out of there. She wasn’t like that though,” he told her. “I know it might look that way to some people but she really wasn’t.”

“I know,” Felicity nodded.

“I mean, Laurel had her faults,” he continued. “She could be…stubborn, and it wasn’t always easy to be friends with her, but money was never her thing. It wasn’t even about status really. For Laurel it was about helping people and Ollie needed her. She thought she could save him and make him into someone better. What her dad said cut to the bone though so, that night, she drove me to my dad’s penthouse since I’d been drinking and our house was a crime scene, and we hooked up for the second time.”

He looked at her, taking her hand in his so he could rub his thumb across her knuckles, “The next morning I woke up—without a hangover this time, and made her one of my world famous morning after omelets—yum,” he grinned, “And I thought, ‘Okay, I like this. I like waking up to a pretty girl whose name I can actually remember. Maybe being with Laurel will make everything make sense again? Maybe she can fix me and make me into the kind of person she always wanted Ollie to be?’ Ollie never wanted that life, the one with the 9 to 5 job and the picket fence but I did,” he admitted. “I didn’t know I wanted that until that very moment but I did know that I wanted to be the kind of person Laurel was; a person who made plans and who looked to the future. I wanted to build something up for a change instead of tearing it down. However…” he shook his head, “While I was folding omelets and cranking out freshly squeezed orange juice, Laurel shared her own morning after tradition known as the ‘brush off speech’.” 

His brow furrowed at that, “I think that it tripped a switch in my brain though; the thought of having a future with somebody. At first I shrugged it off. She took off and I was left to lick my wounds, so I went to a club where I found drink with an umbrella and someone to soothe my bruised ego. For the next couple of years that became my routine; go to the club, pick up the first girl that caught my eye, head to her place for a night of debauchery, then head home to sleep it off. Then one night there’s a knock on my door and it’s Laurel with an extra-large pie from Mario’s and a six pack of beer. You can guess what happened next,” he said wryly.

“Omelets and morning after speeches?” she asked quietly and he nodded.

“It wasn’t like she blindsided me with it; I was expecting it by that point,” he told her. “I’d heard it twice before after all. The only thing that was different, the thing that changed everything, was that, for the first time, _she_ came to _me_. She’s the one who sought me out, who made the first move and, yeah, maybe I was just a booty call but, in my mind, that was progress,” he huffed. “Slow progress, but still progress. A couple more years went by and she didn’t come back to my apartment in the middle of the night but when we’d run into each other sparks would fly. I could tell there was still something there. I knew I’d never get invited back to her place because that would be too intimate in her book but I was pretty sure that if I invited her back to my place that she’d go for it. However, I also knew it would just be sex to her,” he said ruefully. “She didn’t want me; she just wanted an orgasm and a reminder of Ollie. I wanted more than that though. I could get sex anywhere but I wanted more from _her_ because she was ‘the one’. I was,” he chuckled humorlessly, “Oh man, I was so full of shit it wasn’t funny, but I was convinced that—somehow—everything would fall into place. As much as I wanted her to want me back though, I still had Malcolm’s voice in my ear telling me that I’d always be second best, that the person she really wanted was Ollie, so even when we finally did get together again, I never pushed for more. I even went to Ollie and said that if he wanted to try again with her that I’d step aside because I knew I couldn’t compete with him; not when it came to Laurel anyway, so when he basically gave me his blessing to be with her I thought, ‘Great! Ollie doesn’t want her anymore so that means I get the girl; life is perfect!’”

He shook his head and sighed, “God, that sounds so pathetic, doesn’t it? It never even occurred to me, not once, that she could simply choose me. No, Ollie had to let her go first so that I would have a shot. I had to _ask him_ for Laurel, which probably sounds sexist as hell but that’s not what I meant by that,” he said with a grimace. “I didn’t ask Ollie to ‘give me’ Laurel; not really. I just asked him if he was planning on taking her _away from me_ because she was always his. It still makes me out to be the asshole in this scenario; the kind of loser who resents the fact that he can’t seal the deal so he goes around whining about how ‘nice guys always finish last’ or ‘guys like us don’t get the girl’. I don’t know, but that’s not quite how it was either,” he said ruefully. “I think the real reason I didn’t push for more, or why I kept trying with Laurel even though she made it clear that I wasn’t the guy she was interested in, was because I didn’t respect myself enough to demand more so she didn’t respect me enough as a person to give that to me. Even after everything, I was still just ‘the booty call’ to her and us sort of dating was just a really long and drawn out version of our usual morning after omelet and brush off dance.”

“You were more than that to Laurel and you know it,” she argued, despite the fact that just a few minutes ago she was worried that she’d never measure up to the other woman.

Which was absolutely ridiculous since Felicity was in a league all her own. Even at that moment with her blotchy cheeks, her eyes red and irritated behind her glasses, and her hair a little disheveled from rummaging through the closet, she was absolutely stunning. 

Her beauty wasn’t just skin deep either. When his mother was alive she used to say, ‘pretty is as pretty does,’ which meant that true beauty comes from the inside and Felicity…God, she was beautiful in every way. The very fact that she would defend Laurel, a woman she never really knew and who, on the one or two occasions that they had met, had been less than friendly towards her, proved that. 

That was one of the many things he loved about her; her kindness. It was that kind and generous nature that prevented her from being jealous of Laurel or of the feelings he’d had for her. After all, if she was jealous then she’d be arguing the opposite: That Laurel never loved him at all and that she was everything her father accused her of being; a gold digger, a social climber, someone who was so greedy for the life he and Oliver had that she would sacrifice her self-respect in exchange for a piece of the pie.

But she didn’t, and she wouldn’t. Felicity would never think that about Laurel simply because it wasn’t in her nature to see the worst in people. Instead she only saw the woman who he and Ollie both loved and that didn’t make her jealous, it simply made her feel like she could never measure up and that wasn’t the same thing. He understood that because his whole life he’d felt the same way; that he could never measure up to Ollie or be the kind of son his dad could love. Jealousy was about coveting something someone else had. What he and Felicity felt was the opposite of that; they wanted the people they loved to love them for who _they_ were and not because they were like anyone else.

And if he wasn’t already hopelessly in love with her, the fact that they both understood that kind of pain and yet somehow managed to survive long enough to find each other would’ve sealed the deal. 

“I know, that’s not what I’m trying to say; not exactly.” He slipped his arm around Felicity’s waist to pull her tighter into his side, “I know she cared about me as a person, but I wasn’t…real to her,” he said at last. “I wasn’t a whole person. I was just this…’convenience’,” he said at last. “I only mattered when she needed me; in the beginning at least. When Ollie came back and Laurel and I started seeing each other, I knew that the only reason she was with me was because she wanted to prove to Ollie that she wasn’t in love with him anymore but, by then, I was used to the concept of taking whatever crumbs of affection I could get,” he sighed. “That was far from a new experience for me and I convinced myself that having half of someone’s affections was better than none at all. I was in love with her, I thought I was anyway, and I figured that if I kept loving her, kept showing her with words and actions how much I wanted her in my life that eventually she’d see that I wasn’t Ollie and love me for me. I was determined to ignore all her brush off speeches, convinced myself that she didn’t mean it, that she was just scared I’d pull a runner like Ollie, so I decided to show her that I wasn’t going to cheat on her or run away from commitment like he did. I wanted to show her than I was done being that guy, that I was capable of being something other than Ollie’s shadow. After all, I never wanted to be Ollie. I wanted to be his friend, I wanted to be part of his family, but I never wanted to be _him_ ,” he emphasized. “I knew she slept with me that first time because of him and not necessarily because she wanted _me_ , but I thought that she’d grow to love me eventually if I kept wearing her down. After all, she’s the one who taught me that trick. It was selfish, I know, but I wanted someone to love _me_ , to pick _me_ , not because of who my father was or because I was Oliver Queen’s best friend, but because I was just Tommy, you know?” he asked turning to her.

“I get it,” she said quietly, her eyes downcast.

“I don’t think you do,” he said, gaining her attention again by cupping her cheek in his hand. “If you did then you wouldn’t be packing your suitcase and trying to leave me because you’d know that _I’m_ in love with _you_ because you see _me_. You see more of me than anyone else ever has,” he said simply. “You see all of it; the good, the bad, and you love me anyway. No one has ever loved me like that; unconditionally. Not ever; not since I was eight years old anyway. I loved Laurel and, in her own way, she loved me, but it was never like _this_ ,” he emphasized. “What I had with her is nothing like what we have. There were strings attached to that love from day one, strings that bound the three of us together in this toxic cycle; me, Laurel, and Ollie. There was never a moment in our relationship where Ollie wasn’t the one who kept drawing us back into each other’s orbit. The truth is that, even when I was jealous of her feelings for Ollie, it was less about her wanting him, and more about the frustration I felt because, no matter how hard I tried, I would always come in second place. Just like with my dad, nothing I did would ever be good enough. _I_ would never be good enough,” he said solemnly. “And I didn’t fight for her either; I gave up because, again, I was living down to Malcolm’s expectations. He thought that love was a weakness and that I didn’t deserve to be loved because I wasn’t the kind of son he wanted. He wanted me to be more like him; cold, hard, a robot. Instead I was like my mom and he hated me for that because it reminded him of the fact that he used to be human. My only other parental role models were Moira and Robert, and they taught us that love was this battle to the death that bound two people in misery and superseded everything else including fidelity and self-respect. I didn’t want that kind of love, Felicity,” he told her. “At the time I didn’t know that but now I know that I wanted _this_ kind of love. You’re the first person to ever show me what real love is supposed to feel like.” 

He ran his gaze over her again before speaking, this time in a hush because, for some reason, it just felt right. After all, the words he was saying were holy words, like the prayers he remembered whispering in church when he was a boy and still believed in God. There was a weight to them and he wanted to give them, and her, the reverence they deserved.

“I love you, not because we’ve known each other for years and have this complicated history between us, or because we both have this picture in our heads of what our lives are supposed to be like; I love you because, when I’m with you, I feel free,” he said with a smile. “For the first time in my life, I feel free. When I’m with you, all the things that used to weigh me down, like Malcolm’s disapproval or my own insecurities, go away; all of it just disappears. I look at you, I look into your eyes, and you make me want to see myself the way you see me; like I’m someone who deserves to be loved for who I am, good and bad. I don’t have to prove anything to you or compete for your affections; you just love me, Felicity, and I love you for that. _I love you_ and—hold on a minute,” he said getting up to cross the room.

“Where are you going?” she asked in confusion as he walked inside the closet to fetch the box he’d gotten out of the safe a few days ago. 

“I wanted to wait until after this whole business with Stellmoor was done but then that… _Isabel_ threw a wrench into things with that bullshit she pulled with the SEC, not to mention that striptease she pulled in my office. I’m still not over that shit,” he said in disgust. “Like I would _ever_ go for Robert’s sloppy seconds, girlfriend or no girlfriend. Not that I knew that at the time but, still; that shit creeped me out so bad I had to have maintenance rub my desk down with bleach and shampoo the carpets,” he grumbled before walking out of their closet to stand in front of her. “I want you to know that the only reason I had this hidden in the closet is because I was waiting until the perfect moment. I was going to wait until the merger was underway and Moira’s trial was over because I didn’t want you to think I was doing this for some stupid reason like I didn’t want to have to testify against you in court, or because I wanted to come across as a stable family man to the board of directors or some shit.” He got down on one knee and Felicity gasped.

“Tommy?” she asked faintly.

He pulled out his mother’s ring before carelessly discarding the box onto the floor. 

“I know we haven’t known each other long,” he said lifting her left hand. “Five months and we’ve only really been together for a little more than half that, but I know what I want.” He slipped the ring on her finger and squeezed her hand as she stared at him in shock, “Felicity Smoak, would you please do me the honor of--?”

“Yes!” she burst out then kissed him—hard. So hard his lips ached afterwards but it was worth it.

“So the answer is ‘yes’?” he grinned against her.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes…” she mumbled as she kissed his mouth, his cheeks, even his nose at one point and he laughed before kissing her back.

“You sure?” he teased. “I might need to hear you say ‘yes’ a few more times just in case.”

She nodded while grinning from ear to ear, “It’s insanely fast, and we might wind up regretting it, but; yes. Yes, I would love to marry you, Tommy Merlyn. Yes, yes, yes!”

“Good,” he said warmly before cupping her cheeks again, “Now tell me where it is we’re going because, I hate to tell you this, but you’re kind of stuck with me now so if you’re packing up to leave then I’m coming along for the ride.”

Felicity’s face fell slightly, “Moira…”

“Moira what?” he urged.

“She said some stuff about us, about how I’d never…about how you, um…” she folded her lips together nervously. “Anyway, it was just a bunch of stuff and then she said if I told you and Thea something that you’d both…that you wouldn’t believe me and you’d…”

“What?” he prompted again.

“Hate me,” she said at last.

Tommy felt a surge of anger at that and it most definitely wasn’t aimed towards the woman in front of him. 

“I could never hate you--ever,” he said firmly, “No matter what it is, that would never happen, you know that right?”

***

“What was it?” Ollie asked. “What was it my mom didn’t want Felicity to tell you?”

The sun was beginning to set so they’d all moved to sit around the fire he’d made. Apparently they’d interrupted his hunt for dinner but, luckily, Ollie hadn’t come to the island unprepared. The MRE’s he handed them weren’t exactly appetizing but they were edible. Diggle was gobbling his up like it was a home cooked meal while Thea was eyeing hers like it was going to try to bite her back at any second. The only two people who hadn’t even tried to touch theirs were him and Ollie.

“You might as well tell him,” Thea urged putting her dinner aside with a disgusted moue. “Better he hears it from us than have Isa-bitch spring it on him in front of a bunch of strangers like she did with me.”

He weighed that in his mind for a moment.

She was right though, if Isabel knew then she’d use that knowledge like a weapon to tear them apart and cause a rift between them that she could take advantage of like she tried to do with Thea.

Only this had the potential to be much worse.

Much, much worse.

Telling him was a risk. Ollie was a runner, always had been. Anytime his parents would argue or he’d get upset about something, he’d run. When they were kids he’d run and hide in his treehouse or the attic until he felt better. Once he stayed hidden for so long they actually had to call the cops until they found him holed up inside an old wardrobe. He’d fallen asleep on top of a bunch of moth eaten fur coats that had belonged to Robert’s mother. 

When they got older he’d run away from his problems and hide in the bottom of a bottle of booze, or drugs, or choose some random girl to help him forget. Laurel died and he ran all the way back to the least welcoming vacation spot on the planet and he needed Oliver to come back with them. Felicity’s life depended on him returning to Starling.

…but he couldn’t keep this from him. Felicity made him swear to her before he left that, no matter what happened; he’d tell Oliver the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but.

Tommy steeled his nerves and sighed, “Do you remember a woman by the name of Samantha Clayton?” 

Ollie’s face froze and, yeah, he definitely remembered.

“Why?” he asked neutrally even though they both knew where this was going.

Tommy propped his elbows on his knees and rubbed the bridge of his nose wearily, “Are you really going to make me say it, man?”

***

FALL 2005

Tommy stumbled to the door as whoever the hell it was tried to beat it down with his fists.

“What the fuck, man? What is your damage? It’s five o’clock in the fucking--!”

“Tommy.”

“Shit,” he breathed as he stared at Ollie through the open doorway. “Dude, what happened?”

Ollie stood there pale and shaking, his hair even more disheveled than usual and his eyes bloodshot and swollen as if he’d been crying.

“Fuck, is your mom okay? Thea?” he asked frantically as he pulled him inside his apartment. “Was it a car accident or something? My flight isn’t until tomorrow but maybe I could get my dad to--!”

“Mom’s fine—everybody’s fine,” he said cutting him off.

“Okay…” he said slowly as he watched Ollie stumble over to his couch before collapsing on it in a heap. He stretched out and rubbed his hands over his eyes as he began to shake and sob. “Fuck, man; something must’ve happened; what is it?”

“I fucked up,” he said thickly. “I really fucked up this time.”

Tommy licked his lips nervously as a million different scenarios flashed before him, everything from Ollie getting busted for messing around with jail bait to testing positive for something that can’t be cured with a shot of penicillin. 

“What is it, man?” he asked huskily as he sat down on the edge of the coffee table. “Whatever it is, we can handle it,” he swore. “We’ll figure it out; I got your back, bro.”

Ollie sniffled and looked at him before sitting up and taking a deep breath, “Um...remember when we went to that thing at Fucknugget's frat?”

“Yeah…?” he said slowly. Carter Bowen, aka ‘Fucknuggets’, might have put the ‘douche’ in ‘douche-bro’ but his frat brothers could throw a decent rager when they wanted to.

“Remember that girl?”

He shook his head and frowned, “There were a lot of girls at that party; you’ll have to be more specific.” 

“Samantha,” Ollie said brokenly. “Remember? She was tutoring me in English Lit?”

“Odyssey Girl?” Tommy asked remembering.

Ollie had been to three different colleges in less than three years starting with Harvard, then back to the West Coast to USC for like half a semester until he punched a paparazzo, now back to the East Coast to Boston College. Robert and Moira had hoped that, with Tommy close, Ollie might actually buckle down this time and stick it out. Unfortunately, Harvard’s pre-med program was pretty intense so he hadn’t had a whole lot of free time to help his buddy out. Because of that his parents hired him a couple of tutors, one of whom was Samantha, aka ‘Odyssey Girl’ as Oliver called her because she actually got him to read the book and study, something that no one, not even Laurel, had ever been able to pull off. The closest he’d ever come to reading an entire book that wasn’t Playboy was buying the Cliff Notes version then handing it in in lieu of a book report back in the eighth grade.

Yeah, Mrs. Gonzalez had not been amused even though, at the time, they both thought it was funny as dog shit.

“You remember how she was kind of messed up that night?” Ollie asked him.

“Yeah, I mean we all were,” he said easily. “Term was just starting up and things were about to get intense so all of us wanted to enjoy ourselves before spending the next several months living out of the library.”

Ollie let out a shaky breath, “Yeah, but she was really kind of out of it, remember? Like really, really wasted and a little out of control.”

He wasn’t wrong. He barely even knew Samantha and she plopped down in his lap without any warning and shoved her tongue down his throat before realizing he wasn’t Ollie. Not that he minded all that much; she was pretty hot in a Young Republican version of ‘Girls Gone Wild’ kind of way, but she wasn’t really his type. He preferred girls who were a little softer around the edges, a bit more easy going, and Samantha just came across as a little too intense and focused for his tastes. She was the kind of girl who had a ten year plan for her ten year plan and all Tommy was interested in that point was a good time and a few laughs. As for Ollie, while he knew his buddy had a thing for brunettes with Type A tendencies, he already had one of those in Laurel. Granted, he wasn’t exactly the posterchild for fidelity, but when Ollie would cheat he would usually pick girls who were the opposite of his girlfriend, not one that was practically her carbon copy. 

“Yeah?” he said carefully.

Oliver gave him a stricken look, “Remember how I took her home that night?”

Uh oh.

Tommy felt icy tendrils of trepidation dance up and down his spine, “What did you do?”

The other man stilled, his breath coming in short pants as his mouth opened and closed. He looked so green around the gills that Tommy was about to grab a wastepaper basket for him to upchuck into when he said it:

“She’s pregnant.” Ollie looked at him, his pupils blown wide with panic, “What the hell do I do now?”

***

“Just tell me,” Oliver said bleakly.

Tommy borrowed Felicity’s trick of doing a slow three count before simply laying it all out on the line and damn the consequences. If worse came to worst and Ollie dug in his heels and refused to come back home with him then he’d grab Felicity and Thea and they’d go on the run. Fuck it; Isabitch could keep the company. Meanwhile, they could move next door to Ollie, build themselves a nice little hut out of palm fronds, and spend their days sunbathing in the middle of a minefield before taking a dip in shark infested waters. 

He looked at Oliver steadily, “She didn’t lose the baby; she lied,” he said bluntly. “Your mom called her in for a meeting and warned her off then handed her a non-disclosure agreement and a check for a million dollars in exchange for her telling you she had a miscarriage. She then told her that if she left town and agreed to never come back that she’d give her another check after the baby was born.” Tommy rubbed his palms that were damp with sweat against his jeans even though the temperatures had begun to drop fairly rapidly, “I remembered the name so as soon as I heard it I was pretty sure what it was we’d find.”

***

“Have you ever heard of someone named ‘Samantha Clayton’?” Felicity asked them with a frown.

Thea shook her head, “Nope; Tommy?”

Tommy felt all the blood drain from his face, “Why?” he asked in a voice he barely recognized as his own.

“What’s wrong?” Thea asked looking at him worriedly. “Who’s Samantha Clayton?”

Instead of answering her, he turned to Felicity once more, “What did you find?”

Felicity’s brow furrowed, “Uh, well, apparently Moira wrote her two checks, both for a million dollars, back in 2005 but only one was ever cashed. Who is Samantha Clayton?” 

“Two million dollars,” he said slowly. “That’s way too much for an abortion.”

“Abortion?” Thea repeated in surprise.

He nodded, “If she had paid her to get an abortion then I could see her shelling out fifty or a hundred grand, maybe even a little more, but not two million. When were the checks written again?” Felicity stared at him in shock without saying anything, “Felicity!” he called out sharply to get her attention, “What are the dates on the checks?”

“Oh, um…” she frowned down at the computer screen, “Uh, November 15th, 2005 and the second check was written June 8th, 2006 but was never cashed.”

“She was around eight weeks in November, so eight weeks plus thirty-two weeks is forty weeks meaning she went full term,” Tommy said weakly. “Fuck.”

Felicity stared at him, “Tommy…are you…do you have a…?”

“No,” he said quickly. “Not me! Definitely not me; Ollie.”

“What about Ollie?” Thea asked numbly.

“Ollie…” Tommy sighed and shrugged, “Ollie apparently has a kid.” He glanced at his sister who was staring at him in shock, “Congratulations! You’re an aunt.”

***

Tommy took a deep breath, “Anyway, Felicity found the account she used, then Thea went through your mom’s safe and found the file with the agreement Samantha signed as well as copies of hospital records and a birth certificate. She wasn’t looking for it—well, Thea was but not until Felicity found the checks and I told them about Samantha,” he said lamely. “The reason Felicity found it in the first place was because she was digging into your mom’s financials after that trap Isabel sprang on us at the board meeting. Your mom wasn’t telling us much, and we knew she’d used the Tempest account to pay off her OB when Thea was born in order to cover up her paternity, so she wanted to make sure—“

“What was it?” Oliver interrupted suddenly. “The baby; what…?”

“A boy,” Thea supplied. “William.”

“William,” Oliver repeated slowly. He was silent for a moment, seemingly lost in his own world, before speaking again, “Did you…talk to Samantha? Did you see him?” he asked, his eyes looking a little more bloodshot than they had a few moments ago and Tommy knew that Ollie was two seconds from bawling like a baby.

Frankly, he felt like crying with him because, goddamn; as bad as Malcolm was, finding out your mom hid your kid from you had to be a new low. Still, that initial shock he was feeling was nothing compared to what he’d be going through after everything settled in. It wasn’t even Tommy’s kid and he’d been tempted to punch a hole in the wall after he realized that Ollie’s son was almost one when the Gambit went down, nearly two by the time the Lances finally relented and Moira was able to have Robert and Ollie officially declared dead. 

_A toddler._

By the time they buried those empty boxes, he’d already taken his first steps, was saying ‘dada’ and ‘mama’, and even though Moira had seemingly lost everything, she still didn’t bother to reach out to the last piece of Ollie that she knew was out there or give them the comfort of knowing that part of him still existed. Instead all they got was an empty box and a chunk of granite with his name carved on it.

She didn’t just keep that baby from Ollie; she kept him from all of them.

If Tommy had known about William he would’ve done everything he could to make sure that kid had whatever he needed and Thea would’ve done the same. They would’ve shrugged off their grief and rallied around that kid. Thea wouldn’t have turned to drugs. He wouldn’t have dropped out of medical school and fallen into a haze of booze and random women. That kid would’ve become their whole world.

Tommy looked at Oliver again. He had that wounded animal look on his face, the kind that usually meant he was about to run but, here on the island paradise known as Lian Yu; there was nowhere to run to. This place was the end of the road for Ollie. 

Tommy looked around and grimaced. God, he hated this place. He’d only been there a few hours but he knew this place would be haunting his nightmares for a while, especially after seeing that freaky mask with the arrow through the eye and those four rock covered graves near the beach along with the wooden planks that served as headstones. He had no idea who the other three people were, but seeing Robert’s name, knowing that Ollie had to bury him with his bare hands, brought home just how much this place had taken from him; from all of them.

When Felicity finally figured out that Ollie had returned to Lian Yu it worried him. He was afraid that it meant they’d finally lost him for good, that he was punishing himself for Laurel’s death by returning to whatever hell had changed him from a spoiled but sensitive kid into a killer. He was genuinely worried that they’d come here to find out that Ollie had killed himself or worse; that he’d finally given up the last shreds of his humanity and given into the same kind of demons that drove Malcolm over the edge. However, the fact that he could still see that kind of pain reflected in Oliver’s eyes meant that he was still human and that the island hadn’t taken everything away from him.

Not yet anyway but they needed to get him the hell off this island before it did.

Tommy sighed at that, before answering, “No,” he told him quietly. “No, we didn’t; I’m sorry.”

“I wanted to—both of us did, but Dig and Felicity said it would be best not to,” Thea offered. “They said that you should be the one to approach her…when you decide to that is.”

“We still don’t know if Isabel is aware of Samantha or your son so we didn’t want to lead her to their doorstep on the off-chance she decided to use them as leverage,” Diggle explained.

Oliver looked between them in confusion before his eyes settled back on Tommy, “How would she even know about that though? The only person I told about Samantha besides you was mom and I doubt she told anyone. Unless the lawyer who she had draw up that agreement Samantha signed said something? Could they be the ones who leaked the information about Thea as well?” 

“Like Dig said, we don’t know if she knows about William or not. As for Thea, we don’t think it was the lawyer who told her; we’re pretty sure it was your dad,” Tommy said grimly.

Oliver stared at him, “What?”

Tommy nodded, “While your mom was absolutely no help in giving us the heads up about Isabi-- _bel’s_ connection to your family—“

“You were totally going to say ‘Isa-bitch’ just now,” Thea interrupted with a grin. “Go ahead, say it: _Isa-bitch_.”

“Thea…” Oliver warned.

“I really wish you would stop putting that word in my head,” Tommy griped. “I’ve been trying really hard not to call that woman the ‘b’ word and if you keep it up you’re going to get me in trouble.” 

“I don’t know why you’re so worried about it. I’m pretty sure Felicity would make an exception for Isa-bitch-bel,” she argued.

“Really?” Oliver said shooting his sister an admonishing look.

“Well, she is a bitch—Isabel, not Felicity. Felicity is a adorable cupcake filled with yummy goodness and sexy rainbow sprinkles. I even call her my wifey just so I can watch the steam come out of Tommy’s ears because we both know that if I *really* wanted to, I could so snatch her out from under him,” Thea told him.

“No, you couldn’t!” Tommy scoffed.

“I *so* could,” Thea said with a slightly evil smirk. “I would own that ass. That deliciously decadent tushie of hers would have my name written all over it and signed in passionate pink lipgloss.”

“Since when are you, um…?” Oliver’s eyebrows drew together in confusion as he looked to his sister.

“Since when am I what?” Thea asked him.

Oliver shifted uncomfortably, “With, you know, uh…the tushie-lipgloss-‘wife’ thing? You and other girls…?”

Thea and Tommy both looked at him blankly before Tommy sighed, “It was a joke, Ollie. Well, not a joke. I’m not making fun of gay people. There’s nothing wrong with being gay so if Thea wanted a wife she could have a wife—“

“Exactly!” Thea agreed with a scowl. 

“Just not mine,” he shrugged, “But, to answer your question, the ‘wifey’ thing isn’t really about Thea wanting to ‘hook up’ with Felicity, it’s a kind of internet meme Twitter hashtag…thing they do back and forth. I think,” he added. “I don’t know, I don’t do that social media crap.”

“Okay, so while technically he’s right about the ‘wifey’ thing, I honestly wouldn’t mind having sex with Felicity,” Thea said easily. “I mean, I’m not really gay or bi—well, maybe a little bi, but I could definitely go past the curious stage if she was willing.”

Tommy glared at the younger woman, “I hate you.”

“That’s okay, my wifey loves me,” she said smugly. “She even painted my toes all different colors like the rainbow she is,” she said with pursed lips as she wriggled her feet at him. “I gotta rainbow sprinkled wifey cupcake and you don’t!” she taunted in a singsong.

“I swear, you white people come up with the weirdest shit,” Dig muttered as he reached for Thea’s discarded MRE and began eating that, too.

“And speaking of my cupcake of a wifey, she has Tommy on this feminism awareness kick so he’s not allowed to say ‘bitch’ anymore because it’s gender offensive. To women, at least,” she added before turning to Tommy, “You can still call another man a bitch, right?”

“No, I can’t,” he said glumly. 

That used to be one of his favorite things, too. Not that he usually went around calling other men ‘bitches’ but to the guys who deserved it; guys like Max Fuller? Oh yeah, now that hit the spot. Of course, the only reason that pissed Max off so bad is because he really was a whiny little bitch. In fact, the only thing more satisfying than calling Max a ‘bitch’ to his face every chance he got was when he called Carter Bowen a ‘weasel-headed fucknugget’ in third grade. After that everyone called him ‘Fucknuggets’; Ollie even had some girl on the yearbook committee change the name under his picture to Carter ‘Fucknuggets’ Bowen.

Yeah, he might be the next Dr. Oz, but he’ll always be ‘Fucknuggets’ to them.

Tommy sighed, “Apparently if you call anyone a bitch, regardless of gender—or whether they deserve it or not,” he grumbled, “it’s offensive because it implies that being a woman is an insult. Also ‘bitch’ is too often used to describe a strong, assertive woman, meaning that it’s okay to be a man and be confident but a confident woman is somehow seen as offensive or less feminine, ergo; ‘a bitch’.”

Diggle looked at him, his lips tilting up in amusement, “You memorized all that, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” he admitted. “I’m also not allowed to refer to Isabel as a tramp, a slut, a cunt, a whore, or use the words ‘pussy’ and ‘douche’ in any context because, not only are those words offensive, but they’re either a direct attack on female sexuality or a form of slut shaming or both.” He shrugged, “Even though Isabel really is all of those things and more. Except for ‘pussy’,” he corrected quickly. “That woman is no pussy. I don’t mind admitting that woman kicked my ass up down and sideways. Hell, she could probably kick Diggle’s ass if they went toe to toe.” Tommy looked at Oliver, “You’ll see what I mean. Isabel’s really scary in this Xenia Onatopp kind of way, you know? She has this way of staring at you like she’s trying to decide whether or not to crush you with her thighs or just…bite your dick off,” he grimaced. “Like the whole thing; right down to the root, before using your balls as dental floss.” 

“Really?” Oliver asked with a dirty look.

Tommy gave him a look, “Dude, two days after meeting this woman for the first time, she walked into my office and, without even saying ‘hello’, took off all of her clothes then tried to rape me on top of my desk. We’re talking bare-assed _naked_!” he emphasized. “It freaked me the fuck out so bad I ran out of the room screaming for security then hid behind Felicity for the rest of the day. I’m just lucky she was there to protect me from the scary Russian dick biter lady otherwise I probably would’ve locked myself in the supply closet or something.”

“Seriously,” Oliver said drolly.

“Dude, I am not into that aggressive shit; never was,” he said frankly. “First off, I have a girl that I am very much in love with and not planning on cheating on, especially not with someone like that, and secondly—well, you’ll see,” he assured him. “If you think that woman is intimidating with her clothes on, she’s fucking terrifying with them off.”

“Why; did she vadazzle with spikes or have an angry looking bush or something?” Thea teased.

“Thea!” Oliver hissed in disapproval.

“I don’t know; I didn’t look,” Tommy shrugged. “I was too busy trying to get the hell away from her to take in the details. All I was worried about was getting to Felicity so she could protect me from the scary naked lady.”

“You are so whipped,” Thea snickered.

“I am, yes, and I like it that way so please stop trying to get me in trouble!” he glared at her. “Last week I slipped up and referred to her as Isa-bitch during a meeting and Felicity wound up using her loud voice on me—and you know how scary the loud voice can be,” he said peevishly. “I’m just lucky she didn’t make me sleep on the couch. Of course, that would mean punishing herself, too, because I’m basically the king of foreplay,” he added under his breath.

“We have really got to do something about this need you have to overshare, Merlyn,” Dig said in disgust. 

Thea grimaced, “Ugh, yeah; I agree. Also I’d really appreciate it if you would put your pants back on after you and your fiancée take a break from one of your marathon sex binges to refuel and rehydrate. Either that or you need to get a mini fridge and a microwave for your bedroom because I really did not need to see that. I also hope you washed your hands first because--just a reminder; the refrigerator and the contents therein are a communal food source.” 

Diggle dropped his tray with a clatter and screwed his face up in disgust, “That’s just nasty.” 

Oliver blew out an impatient breath, “Can we please get back to what you were saying about Isabel and dad?”

“Oh, well apparently dad and Isa-bitch used to knock boots back in the day,” Thea said airily. “He dumped her skank ass so now she’s on some kind of hell hath no fury power trip because she wants revenge.” She rolled her eyes, “It’s actually pretty stupid when you think about it and *so* not female empowering. I mean, seriously; like going after your dead ex’s company because he refused to leave his wife and kids for you? Please, like that is so 80’s. Why not just break into his house and boil a bunny while you’re at it? Plus, it’s no wonder dad dumped her,” Thea said in a catty tone. “I mean, the woman’s face is completely frozen like she OD’d on Botox. Talk about a terminal case of resting bitch face.” She smirked at Tommy, “I can say that because I’m a woman.”

“What she said,” Diggle deadpanned.

Oliver’s mouth tightened at that but before he could let fly with a few choice words to his sister, Tommy stepped in to make the save.

“Okay, so like I was saying, your mom was zero help with Isabel. Even after she found out who was leading the charge, she didn’t say a word.” Tommy shook his head, “I guess she was embarrassed or figured that if she didn’t say anything that it would go away.”

“But it didn’t,” Oliver offered grimly.

“No,” he told him. “In fact, the day after she tried to jump me, Isabel marched into the conference room ala Alexis Carrington—“

“See? Totally 80’s,” Thea added. “The only things missing were the big hair and the shoulder pads.” 

“—and basically let us know that she was there to take away both companies and kick us to the curb, then made a jab at Felicity about the whole naked office thing,” Tommy finished as if she’d never interrupted. “I guess she didn’t expect me to tell her or that Felicity wouldn’t believe me; I don’t know.”

“That’s part of her established MO, by the way,” Diggle interjected. 

“Divide and conquer?” Oliver said neutrally then nodded, “Not a bad strategy all things considered.” 

“That and shock and awe but Felicity knows me better than that—luckily,” Tommy said with a hint of annoyance. “Even if I hadn’t been with Felicity though, I wouldn’t touch that woman with a ten foot pole and someone else’s dick,” he looked at Oliver steadily, “You know me, man; while I’m no saint, I have a few hard limits to what I will and won’t do and this chick…” he shook his head ruefully, “This is the type of woman who owns her own dungeon and I am just not into that shit. Anyway, I got the hell out of there right after it happened, went straight to Felicity, then we both went straight to Walter and Michael to let them know what was up so she didn’t get the initial reaction she was looking for. Michael just gave her a disgusted look and called for security, Felicity gave her hate-eyes and muttered something about running her down with her car which, by the way, was actually kind of hot,“ he admitted. “I don’t mind telling you that when we got home that night…” he grinned happily.

“Again, I did not need to hear that,” Diggle said with a grimace, “Keep that shit to yourself, Merlyn.”

“Please,” Oliver said with a similar expression.

Tommy rolled his eyes at them, “Anyway, Thea, of course, called her a skank—“ 

“Damn straight,” she huffed.

“--and Walter got pissed in that polite, stiff upper lip British way of his, then basically told her that it was a private meeting and she wasn’t invited. She then came back with some line about how she was just there to give the board the heads up because Thea wasn’t actually a Queen and, as such, her vote was invalid which meant that the merger would be put on hold until a ‘legitimate’ member of the Queen family could cast their vote.”

Thea took over at that point, her mouth turned down into a frown, “And as soon as security got there, Michael ordered them to escort her out of the building but she did this whole catwalk hair flip and turn and said, ‘Don’t bother,’ before stomping her Louboutins on out the door. I mean, like, dramatic much?” she harrumphed, crossing her arms over her chest with an angry expression. “I was going to go after that bitch and relieve her of some of her hair—the ones on her head, not the ones on her top lip because, hey; try waxing some time,” she snorted. “But Tommy pulled me back before I could ruin my manicure by punching her in the face. Repeatedly.”

“And that’s when you found out that she’d had an affair with dad?” Oliver asked them.

“Pretty much,” Tommy nodded. “Her little dog and pony show did the trick and the whole meeting fell apart while we scrambled to try to figure out what the hell was going on. We adjourned the meeting and that’s when Michael finally realized who Isabel was. He didn’t recognize the name at first because he worked for my dad, not for Robert, but he remembered your dad talking to my dad about a problem he was having with some intern or assistant he’d been banging on the side. No offence and, of course, Michael didn’t phrase it that way either,” he said quickly and Oliver waved him off then gestured for him to continue. “Like I was saying, he was a little more respectful about it than I was just now, but that was the gist of it. He said that Robert was worried because things were getting out of hand and Isabel had him over a barrel. She basically wanted him to leave Moira or she was going to cause some problem for him and his company but he didn’t know the specifics. All he knew was that Robert, for whatever reason, couldn’t confront the woman directly so he asked Malcolm for a solid. Apparently my dad agreed to help out, probably just so he’d have something to hold over your dad later, and he promised he’d handle it. Michael was my dad’s right hand at MG so, while he didn’t exactly approve, according to him these things happen and favors get exchanged all the time for less. The next thing you know, Isabel was on her way out and that was that. Until now anyway,” he added ruefully.

Oliver frowned at that, “What did Malcolm do?”

“He didn’t send some guys to break her kneecaps or anything,” Tommy assured him. “Besides, as we both know, that’s not really Malcolm’s style. He would’ve just dropped a house on her or put an arrow in her chest. No, all he did was make a few phone calls then tip off your mom who had security escort her from the premises but not before reminding Isabel about the confidentiality agreement she signed with the company. She was also told to leave Starling permanently as no one was going to hire her, she—or rather Malcolm--made sure of that.” He looked at Oliver steadily, “I don’t know if it's bullshit or not but, officially, she was let go for embezzlement.” 

“Embezzlement?” he repeated.

Tommy nodded, “Apparently she or your dad had been diverting company funds to pay for her apartment and stuff. I don’t know if he was doing it that way to keep your mom from finding out or she was blackmailing him. The way Michael talked though I suspect it was the latter. Anyway, since her apartment and everything in it technically belonged to the company, your mom tossed her out on her ass with just the clothes on her back and the promise that she’d be blackballed from every major Fortune 500 company in the country if she ever darkened her doorstep again. According to Michael that was that; he never heard another word about it,” he said with a shrug. “Our guess is that she must’ve taken their threats seriously and left the country because that’s around the time she hooked up with Stellmoor International.”

“So why didn’t Walter recognize her?” Oliver asked. “He was my dad’s CFO for years; if dad was having an affair with this woman, he’d know.”

“Apparently all this happened around twelve years ago and, at the time, Walter was running their European offices because his mom was dying of breast cancer and he wanted to be close to her,” he explained. “After that revelation though, we had Felicity comb through all of HR’s files but there was nothing about an Isabel Rochev in there. According to them, Isabel Rochev never held a position within Queen Consolidated. Walter thinks your mom had her erased just in case she ever tried to file a sexual harassment suit against the company.”

“I hate to admit it but that sounds like my mom,” Oliver muttered before sighing, “So you think dad is the one who told her about Thea?”

“Makes sense,” Diggle offered. “After all, that information was so well hidden that it took Felicity a few days to track down and that was after she knew what to look for.” 

“Plus, she knew about the specific terms of Robert’s will, and the fact that he chose to transfer the entirety of his estate, including his shares, into the Queen family trust and not to you, Moira, and Thea directly,” Tommy added. 

Oliver frowned at that, “Yeah, but the Queen family trust--?” 

“Belongs to members of the Queen family,” Thea finished with a disgruntled look, “Meaning Dad’s wife and children.”

His frown deepened at that, “Exactly.”

“Yeah, exactly,” his sister nodded. “Only I’m not really a Queen now.”

“No matter who your ‘sperm donor’ was, you’re still a Queen,” Oliver said firmly.

“I agree, but a judge may or may not,” Tommy told him. 

“Thea is a Queen,” Oliver repeated. “Dad raised her, she has his last name. Even if she isn’t his biological child, his name is on her birth certificate as her father. If she was adopted--”

“But I wasn’t adopted,” Thea said cutting him off. 

Oliver’s brow furrowed in frustration, “So?”

“So the DA, in addition to everything else, is saying that now that this ‘new’ evidence has come to light, that they’re thinking of charging mom with both Sara and dad’s murders as well as the murders of the crew, your attempted murder, and fraud,” Thea told him.

“What?” he hissed.

“That’s the theory they’re going with,” Tommy sighed. 

“But that’s absurd!” Oliver burst out.

“It is,” Tommy agreed, “but after Laurel’s funeral, Walter and Michael asked me to do a few interviews about Malcolm thinking it would help your mom’s case.”

“And,” he prompted.

“And it did,” Tommy shrugged, “For a while anyway. The public started seeing your mom as a victim, women’s rights groups started picketing the prison and the court house. One of the guys who did the original interview, Clark Kent, even did some digging and got the DA to recuse herself from the case because of conflict of interest and another guy, some useless little putz named Donner took over instead,” he told him. 

“The guy is a total joke,” Thea snorted. “According to somebody Tommy knows who went to school with him, the only reason the guy passed the bar was because his dad paid somebody to take it for him.” 

“If this guy is so useless then how did he catch mom’s case much less get hired in the first place?” Oliver asked dubiously.

“Connections; same as everything else in Starling,” Tommy said easily. “His old man is with the State Attorney General’s office and apparently daddy has plans for junior so he used some pull which is how he got his job in the first place. As soon as Spencer was forced out, daddy stepped in again and made sure he caught the case,” he said dryly. “After all, up until that moment it was supposed to be a slam dunk so his dad probably figured that his bouncing baby boy could ride this case all the way to the top.”

“He still might,” Diggle warned them. “The case against Moira is still pretty strong.”

“True,” Tommy agreed before turning to Oliver once more. “Look, Dig’s right; this case could go either way and Donner is doubling down and going for the death penalty.”

Oliver’s expression hardened at that, “What?”

He nodded, “For a while we thought, given the way the public was beginning to throw their support behind Moira, they might offer her a deal. At least, that’s what Jean thought when they requested a meeting. She figured they’d offer Moira a few years in a minimum security prison which, while not as good as a not guilty verdict, was acceptable.”

“My mother going to prison isn’t acceptable, even if it is minimum security,” Oliver said firmly.

“Ollie,” Thea said carefully.

He turned to his sister with a frown, “You disagree?”

“Yeah,” she told him. “Mom might not deserve the death penalty but she definitely deserves to go to jail.”

Oliver gave her a stricken look, “I can’t believe you would say something like that.”

“I can’t believe you wouldn’t given everything she’s done,” she countered. “Ollie, she and dad were part of the Undertaking long before the Gambit went down—“

“Malcolm forced her to be part of that,” he said stubbornly.

“Did he force her to hide your son from you or pay that bitch to lie to you about it?” Thea shot back. “Not to mention all the other stuff mom has done, starting with having an affair with Malcolm and ending with not telling us who Isabel was until she was forced to.”

Oliver flinched at that, “Mom thought she was protecting us.” Thea began to object but he cut her off, “You weren’t there, Thea. I practically begged mom to…” he sighed and rubbed his hand over his mouth before shutting his eyes in pain, “If mom paid off Samantha then it was because of me. I told her that I didn’t want to be a father, that I was afraid that my entire life was ruined because of it, and mom did what she always did and took care of it.” He shrugged, “Truth be told, when Samantha called to tell me she lost the baby I was relieved.”

“That’s bullshit, man,” Tommy said dryly.

He shook his head, “It’s true—“

“Yeah, to a certain extent, but I was there, remember?” Tommy reminded him. “While part of you was relieved, you also cried like a baby that night then we went out and got stinking drunk.”

“I wouldn’t have been a good father and mom knew that,” Oliver said stubbornly.

“Again, I’m going to have to call bullshit on that but it’s neither here nor there,” Tommy said with a grimace.

If there was one thing Ollie was good at (besides running) it was justifying other people’s actions while taking on all the blame. He knew long before they got there that Ollie would try to find a way to turn his anger at his mother inwards and make it his fault. Oliver may be a badass vigilante when he’s in the hood, but when it came to the women in his life he was a complete wuss who basically let them walk all over him. Robert had been the same way but that didn’t make it any less frustrating.

“The point is that when they went to the meeting, instead of talking a plea deal, Donner told them that unless she pled guilty he was going for the death penalty. That kind of worried us a little but, at the time, Jean thought it was just a power play; that he was simply trying to rattle our cage a little.” 

“So she really thinks she can beat this guy?” Oliver asked hopefully.

“I don’t know,” Tommy admitted. “Don’t get me wrong; he’s a moron but he’s ambitious and when you mix stupid and greedy with connected anything can happen; after all, look at Dubya. Plus, the guy’s a real wildcard. He’s got that trust fund brat’s mentality so thinks he can play fast and loose with the rules. Brandon McNamara—you remember him?” he asked and waited for Ollie to nod, “Yeah, well, he’s the guy Thea mentioned; the one who went to school with him? Anyway, he’s been up against him a few times and said he was bad about withholding discovery and ‘losing’ evidence. Still, your mom’s lawyer was feeling pretty confident at the time so, all in all; things were looking up. Between the press being on her side and the idiot in charge of the case, she even told us that, despite the threat of the death penalty Donner tried baiting us with, if we stayed strong that there was a good chance he’d blink first and come back with another plea deal before the trial started.”

“And then Isa-bitch dropped her bomb,” Thea said, popping her lips on the last syllable.

Tommy nodded, “What Jean was banking on is the fact that the DA couldn’t afford to lose what looked like a slam dunk before it even made it to court. She hoped that they’d offer them a decent plea deal because that would’ve been a win/win for everyone; Moira would go to prison, yeah, but it wouldn’t be forever, and while they wouldn’t get their sexy death penalty trial, it would still go down as a win for them. Instead, Isabel messed all of that up for us by handing that information over to Donner on a silver platter and he used it to change the public’s perception of her by launching an all-out smear campaign.”

“The guy is on the news practically 24/7,” Dig said grimly. “He spends so much time on the six o’clock news you’d think he was up for the anchor job.”

Tommy sighed, “Now, instead of seeing Moira as this woman who was victimized by a monster for years, he’s painting her as a coldhearted bitch who murdered her cheating husband and attempted to kill her embarrassment of a son—again, no offence; it’s his words not mine,” he said quickly but Oliver merely tightened his jaw and motioned for him to keep going, “He claims that, in order to prevent Robert from divorcing her, she killed him so that she could inherit the entirety of his estate. They’re using the fact that she’s Malcolm’s daughter, even though Robert is on Thea’s birth certificate, to prove conspiracy and fraud and are saying that your dad had no idea that she wasn’t really his when he signed it.”

“There’s even been some speculation in the tabloids that your dad was leaving your mom _specifically_ because he figured that out which is why she had the Gambit scuttled when she did,” Diggle told him.

“Where the hell are they getting all that from?” Oliver bit out. 

“Circumstantial evidence combined with some ‘confidential sources close to the Queen family’,” Thea said bitterly. “Three guesses who.”

“It doesn’t help that the cops found the warehouse where your mom was keeping the remains of the Gambit,” Diggle added. 

Oliver’s shoulders stiffened at that, “But she and Malcolm moved the boat.”

“To another warehouse,” Diggle told him, “which they found after someone again tipped them off.”

His face darkened in anger, “If my mother sank the Gambit then why would she retrieve the wreck, huh? Why wouldn’t she just leave it on the bottom of the ocean?”

“Why would she retrieve it and put it in a warehouse and not hand it over to the Coast Guard?” Diggle countered.

“My mother didn’t do this,” Oliver insisted. 

“We know that,” Tommy assured him. “However, like Ms. Loring told us; lots of cases that are based solely on circumstantial evidence get successfully prosecuted every day. That said, right now the lynchpin to their case is the will itself. On the surface, it seems innocent. Apparently it’s not all that unusual to simply leave everything in a trust for tax purposes, but Michael’s theory is that either Isabel saw the will while she was working with your dad as his assistant or she convinced him to structure it that way so that your mom wouldn’t catch wind of his plan to leave you guys. The will was updated around the time all this was going on so that theory makes sense. If he left Moira and married Isabel then they had kids of their own, she would become a Queen and her family would inherit the bulk of the company. Once he divorced your mom their pre-nup would kick in; she’d no longer be able to draw from the Queen family trust, and she and Thea would’ve both been cut out entirely. All you would’ve gotten is whatever was left.”

“The story the DA is going to try to sell is that there was some kind of altercation between your parents where he found out about her relationship with Malcolm which is why Robert took you with him to China but left your mom and Thea behind,” Diggle told him. “They’re saying that she either acted alone or that she hired someone to sabotage the boat then, later, she planned on using the earthquake machines to level the Glades so she could get the insurance money. Once that happened, she and Malcolm were going to go public with their affair, merge the two companies, and she, Malcolm, and Thea would become this big happy family.”

“Only Malcolm didn’t see it that way, discovered what it was she was planning to do, so she had the Hood kill him in revenge. They’re even using Walter’s kidnapping to say that killing her husbands is a habit,” Thea said wryly. 

“And, like Thea mentioned just now, they’re saying that your mom was the one bankrolling the Hood,” Dig added. “The theory is that he was actually your mom’s hitman and the fact that he started out by going after one-percenters who were connected to your parents supports that.”

“This is---“ Oliver’s jaw tightened in rage. “This is bullshit.”

“Which is but one of many reasons why we need you to come home,” Tommy told him. “Look, I know it’s tempting to stay here and not deal with any of this shit; believe me. If I were you, I’d even be tempted to let your mom hang for the whole hiding your kid thing—“

“Tommy!” Thea hissed.

He shrugged, “Sorry, Speedy, but you got to admit that’s a pretty big hurdle to jump right there. I know you said you weren’t mad but, if you were, I wouldn’t blame you,” he said looking to Oliver. “I mean, right now you’re in shock so I get where your head is at but, later; after everything sinks in, it’s okay to get mad, Ollie,” he told him. “God knows I was when I heard about it and it’s not even my kid.”

“Still, you shouldn’t say stuff like that,” she insisted. “I’m sure Ollie’s upset, who wouldn’t be? I’m pissed, too! Not only that, but I’m all for mom spending a few years in Martha Stewart Minimum Security Federal Prison with tennis courts and cable TV, but neither of us want mom to ‘hang’ for anything! Like he said; mom only did what she did because she thought she was protecting him—us! And he knows that.”

“Look, this is none of my business, but I’m going to have to disagree with you there,” Dig interjected. “While I get that the whole situation with Malcolm and the Glades was complicated and she went along with him to protect you and Oliver, that situation and the one Tommy’s talking about are two completely different things.”

“He’s right,” Tommy agreed. “I’m willing to cop to Malcolm being a monster and I’ll even testify to that, but you don’t protect your kids by paying someone to lie to them then keep the fact that they have a kid secret.”

“I asked her about that and she said she thought—“ Thea began only to be cut off my Oliver.

“No, Thea; they’re right,” Oliver said tightly. “What mom did, hiding my son from me, is unforgivable.”

Thea blanched then turned to her brother with a pleading expression, “You don’t mean that, Ollie. You said it yourself; she thought she was doing what you wanted her to do. I know mom made a lot of mistakes, but you can’t let them give her the death penalty or spend the rest of her life behind bars for that!“

“I’m not—“ Oliver closed his eyes for a moment and sighed, “I meant that Tommy’s right and I’m pissed at her but I’m not going to let mom go to prison for the rest of her life, Thea.”

“Oh,” she said relaxing slightly even though she was still frowning. “Still, it’s not all on mom, you know. That Samantha girl is the one who lied to you. Mom might’ve written out the check but she’s the one who cashed it.”

“One of them anyway,” Tommy said dryly. At Oliver’s questioning look he explained, “There were two checks, remember? Both for a million dollars, written to Samantha Clayton dated eight months apart. She cashed the first check before dropping out of school and moving to Central City but she never cashed the second check.”

“Yeah, I…” he shook his head slightly. “I remember; it just…didn’t sink in until now.”

“No one can blame you for that one,” Dig said with a sympathetic grimace. “Hell, if someone told me that I had a kid under those circumstances I’d blank out, too.”

“Look, I don’t blame Samantha for taking the check,” Oliver said after a moment. “Especially if she needed the money to take care of the baby—William,” he corrected. “But mom…she lied to me, Thea. She paid Samantha off and prevented me from knowing my son.”

“So did that bitch when she told you she lost the baby! How does the fact that she got knocked up make her a saint and mom a monster?” Thea shot back. “Ollie, your babymama lied and accepted a million dollar payday,” she emphasized. “Are you seriously going to sit there and tell me that all is forgiven because she didn’t cash the second check?”

“No,” Oliver said grimly. “But I knew Samantha, you didn’t, and I can tell you that if all she wanted was money she could’ve gotten a lawyer the second she found out she was pregnant but she didn’t. Instead she came to me and wanted to come up with a plan to co-parent the baby. The only time she ever brought up the subject of money was when she suggested we split the expenses _equally_.”

“Oh please!” Thea snorted. “She slept with a billionaire then got knocked up! You don’t honestly think that was an accident, do you?”

“I do,” he said easily, “because, once again, I knew her and you didn’t. Admittedly I didn’t know her well and it was a one night stand, but she was a good student with a promising future ahead of her and the last thing she wanted was to become a mother at twenty.”

“Then why not terminate the pregnancy?” she shot back. “And don’t try coming across like she’s this big Christian girl who thinks ‘abortion’ is a dirty word. Christian girls don’t go around fucking random billionaires then accept millions of dollars to lie and say they had a miscarriage! I’m not saying that you aren’t fifty percent responsible for what happened, but she chose to get into that bed with you and not use protection. If she was so smart and so determined to have this ‘promising future’ then she would’ve used birth control or not had a one night stand in the first place.” She turned to Tommy, “And before you say a word, it’s not slut-shaming if the person in question is actually a slut.”

“She wasn’t a slut,” Oliver said firmly. “As for why she didn’t want to terminate, I don’t…I don’t know,” he said with another sigh as he rubbed the back of his neck wearily. “I asked her what she wanted to do and she told me she was having it; that’s as far as that part of the conversation went. She made it pretty clear that it wasn’t up for debate and I wasn’t going to come out and demand she terminate. After all, ultimately it was her choice to make but it doesn’t matter because it’s done. The only thing I can think about right now is the fact that I have a son and, if Samantha lied to me, I know it was because mom probably threatened her.”

“You don’t know that,” Thea argued.

“He doesn’t?” Tommy said arching his eyebrow at that. “Thea, she threatened _Felicity_ just because she found out. She had this girl sign a contract and multiple non-disclosure agreements then paid her two million dollars to lie to your brother and leave town, and I’m not even going to bring up all the stuff she did during the Undertaking. I love Moira, I do; she’s practically my mother, too, but there is no doubt in my mind that she made it very clear to this girl that she was leaving town one way or the other.”

“Enough. Arguing about this is a waste of time. When I get home mom and I will have a long talk about all of this, I promise you, but for now we need to concentrate on the situation with this Rochev person first, and how it might affect my—the--William,” Oliver said at last then paused for a moment before speaking again, “Okay, so I get what you’re saying about the will and that there is a possibility that dad might’ve told this woman about Thea, but if this happened twelve years ago then what makes you think she knew anything about Samantha and William, especially if she and dad weren’t together anymore? I met Samantha two years before the Gambit went down so that means our-- _William_ ,” he said tightly, “would be around six.”

“Seven,” Thea corrected, obviously still upset, “His birthday was in June so he’s seven now.”

Oliver let out a shaky breath before nodding, “Yeah, of course; seven.”

“Like Dig said; we don’t,” Tommy told him, “but someone traced Tempest to that second warehouse and tipped off the cops. That means that if Felicity could find out about William by digging through those same records then, theoretically, so could she. The question is, if she knows about William, when and where is she planning on revealing that information?”

Oliver’s jaw clenched at that, “Obviously wherever and whenever she thinks it would cause the most damage.”

“Which means she’s either waiting for you to come back to Starling City so she can drop it on you during a board meeting like she did with Thea or in some other way that would cause as much blowback for your family as possible,” Dig proffered.

“It won’t be at the board meeting,” Thea said confidently, her face clearing as she squared her shoulders once more. 

“How do you know?” Oliver asked her.

“I just do,” she said wryly. “Trust me, I’ve known plenty of sneaky bitches like her and they’re all about the drama. Sure, it got her plenty of points the first time she pulled that crap but she’s a total drama queen. It’s all about shock and awe with her so the last thing she’d do is repeat herself. My guess is that since it’s fairly obvious that mom is the one she’s really gunning for, she’ll slip that information to the DA so that he can bring it up in court and make mom look like the kind of woman who wouldn’t just kill 503 poor people and their families, but someone who would reject their own grandchild and pay off her son’s babymama to lie to him about it. I mean, technically all of that is true but taken out of context it definitely wouldn’t look good.”

Diggle turned to the younger woman with a sardonic lift of his brow, “Is there any context in which that _would_ look good?”

Thea’s face fell slightly, “Actually, when you put it that way; no, not really.”

Oliver ran his fingers through his hair with a pained expression, “Okay, well, if Isabel does that then the DA will have to enter it into discovery, right? I’ve been to court enough times to know that they can’t spring anything on us, so that means Mom’s attorney can try to get that suppressed or thrown out of court since it’s not really relevant to the case. They could get it tossed for…prejudice or whatever.”

Thea frowned at that, “Wait; Samantha’s black? So that means I have a black nephew? Cool.”

All three of them turned to her in confusion.

“What?” Tommy asked incredulously. 

Thea frowned, “What?”

“What gave you the idea that Samantha was black and what does that have to do with anything?” Oliver asked her.

“Because you said that the DA would try to make it look like mom paid her off because she’s prejudiced but that’s stupid because she was married to Walter and he’s black, too,” Thea huffed.

“Not…not that kind of prejudice,” Oliver said with a pained expression. “I meant that if they presented that in court that it would unfairly prejudice the jury against her.”

“Because Samantha’s black or because Walter is?” she asked in confusion, “Because, either way, that’s fucked up. I mean, can they even do that because having a bunch of racists on the jury doesn’t seem legal?”

“Trust me; it’s legal,” Dig said wryly. “In fact, some people would argue it’s a requirement.”

Oliver’s tilted his head skyward as if praying for patience before saying, “Never mind, just—Samantha’s not black.”

Her face fell at that, “Oh. Oh well, but if she were black I just want you to know that I’d be cool with it.”

Dig rubbed his hand over his mouth as he made a noise that sounded suspiciously like an aborted laugh while Tommy just shook his head and turned to Oliver.

“Let it go, buddy; trust me,” he said quietly.

Oliver cut his eyes towards his sister one last time before saying, “The point is that her lawyer could probably get that tossed then hit them with a gag order seeing as it would expose a minor to public scrutiny.” 

“I don’t know about that, Ollie,” Tommy warned. “You might’ve been busted more times than I have but I actually lived with an attorney for a while. Kind of anyway, and from listening to Laurel and her friends talk I know that there are ways around that stuff. One of Laurel’s favorite tricks was to say that the information came in anonymously at the last minute so she didn’t have time to enter it into discovery. Nine times out of ten, the judge would let her present whatever she had and, even if he threw it out afterwards, once the jury hears it, they can’t really un-hear it. However, if she really is all about the shock and awe like Thea said, my guess is that she’ll skip the courts entirely and go to the press. Once the tabloids get hold of the fact that there’s a secret Queen lovechild living in Central City it’ll become public knowledge and she won’t have to worry about whether the judge suppresses it or not because the jury will already know.”

Diggle nodded along with him, “And because it’s from an ‘anonymous source’ no one can get a gag order or sue her for violation of a NDA.”

“Exactly,” Tommy agreed. “Not to mention the fact that if this woman scorned thing extends to the whole family and not just Moira, throwing your kid to the wolves would definitely throw a wrench in things. Since she doesn’t know that you know about William, once that information came out she might stick to the established script and try to use it to drive a wedge between you and your family, then whip out that honey trap routine on you that she tried with me to get you on her side. Besides, as far as she knows, you don’t give a shit about QC. You gave up your proxy to Felicity…sort of,” he added clearing his throat, “and took off for five months. She might figure you’d jump at the chance to screw me and everyone else over then wash your hands of the whole thing, especially if she gave you a push in the right direction.”

“You have to admit that makes sense,” Dig agreed as he looked to Oliver, “After all, from what we know about her, she’s used sex as a weapon before. She used it on your dad, tried to use it on Tommy, and the fact that she’s so intent on you coming back for that vote leads me to believe that she thinks she can exploit the fact that the two of you aren’t exactly friends anymore,” he said looking between the two men. 

“Tommy and I are still friends,” Oliver said carefully before giving the man in question an almost sullen look, “At least, I’m still _his_ friend anyway but I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t feel the same.”

Tommy sighed, “Ollie, if I was still hung up on what happened between you and Laurel, I sure as shit wouldn’t have jumped out of the world’s oldest airplane that looked like it was being held together with duct tape and dirt to come drag your sorry ass home! Plus, I’m getting married in a few months, so yeah; I’m over it.”

“Yeah, but if you weren’t I’d understand,” he said licking his lips before glancing at him with a hangdog expression, “What I did to you was—“

Tommy cut him off, “Ollie, stop; you don’t owe me an apology,” he told him. “Well, not for Laurel choosing you over me anyway. The thing where you told me to go over there and tell her I loved her then beat me to it so I had to watch the two of you going at it through an open window kind of sucked—“

Oliver blanched at that and Thea threw her brother a disgusted look, “God, you’re such a dick!” she spat.

“That was a pretty dick move, man,” Dig said ruefully.

Oliver gave him a stricken look, “Tommy…” he began but the other man waved him off.

“Like I said; I’m over it,” he assured him. “You could even argue that it was a good thing. Up until that moment, I thought I could, I don’t know; change her mind,” he said with a grimace. “Seeing you and her together, while unpleasant to say the least,” he said wryly, “is what finally snapped me back into reality. Laurel and I broke up a full month before the two of you got together and I told you then that the reason I broke up with her was because she was still in love with you,” he reminded him. “The truth is that I never should’ve gotten involved with Laurel in the first place. I loved her but…” he sighed, “Even if the two of you never got back together, our relationship was never going to go anywhere. Laurel was very clear from the start that she didn’t want that kind of relationship with me so if I got hurt then that’s my fault; not hers and certainly not yours. And, frankly, it’s kind of a blessing because Laurel got to spend her last night on earth with the man she loved, which was you.” 

Oliver hung his head at that, his face a mask of grief and guilt, so Tommy reached over to pat him on the knee, “It’s okay, buddy. Like I said, she loved you so you have nothing to feel guilty about. You made Laurel’s last hours on earth happy ones so I’ll always be grateful for that. Besides, like I said, I’m with Felicity now,” he added. “I’m happy so the last thing I want to do is rehash all this bullshit because, as far as concerned, it’s over and the past is the past. It’s time for us to move on and just deal with what’s important right now which is helping your mom and saving the company and if Laurel were here she’d say the same thing. Laurel loved your mom. She always said that, growing up, she wanted to be just like her, and if she were still here she’d be doing everything she could to prove her innocence.”

Oliver nodded after a moment’s consideration, “Well, for the record, even if you don’t need an apology from me, I’m sorry.”

“In that case, I’m sorry, too,” Tommy told him. “Before you left I said a lot of really shitty things to you, I was a lousy friend, and I apologize.”

“You don’t owe me an apology,” Oliver said firmly.

“You don’t owe me one either but, if you’re going to apologize then so am I,” he objected. “I called you a murderer and a monster when what I should’ve been calling you is a hero.”

Oliver shook his head, “I’m no hero.”

“You are,” he said firmly. “When I called you that it was because I was hurt and I didn’t understand what it was you were doing. Now I do so…thank you,” he said at last. “Thank you for trying to stop my dad. I only wish I had gotten my head out of my ass sooner so I could’ve helped more. Maybe if I had then Laurel, along with the other five hundred and two people Malcolm murdered, might still be alive.”

Oliver’s eyes darkened, “Those deaths aren’t on you, Tommy.”

“They aren’t on you either, man,” he reminded him. “The only person responsible for any of what went down is Malcolm. He’s the asshole here. Everything you’ve been through over the last six years, from the boat going down to Laurel dying, is on him, not you—or me, or anyone else for that matter; just him. That said; I am guilty of being a shitty friend and trying to get you to be the guy you used to be when that guy has been gone for a long time now. That wasn’t fair to you.”

“You don’t—“ he began but the other man cut him off.

“No,” he told him. “Five years is a long time even without the whole ‘stranded on a deserted island’ thing. I changed, Thea changed, we all changed, and yet we expected you to come back acting like the same person we lost and that’s bullshit. I never should’ve pulled that shit on you and I’m sorry.”

“Me, too,” Thea said shamefaced. “I was such a bitch to you when you came back and—“

“Okay, stop,” Oliver told them both. “Yeah, you guys wanted me to still be Ollie and, yeah; I…” he paused and blew out a harsh breath, “I resented that but I’m guilty of doing the same thing to all of you.” He looked between Tommy and Thea and grimaced, “I came back expecting to see my twelve year old baby sister and my wingman, Tommy. I thought I’d walk through the door and mom would be the same as when I left. I even demanded we throw that stupid Christmas party, even though you warned me that it was a bad idea, because I wanted to...go back in time, I guess; make things like they used to be, like putting up a Christmas tree would erase everything that had happened over the last five years,” he said solemnly. “Meanwhile, I was frustrated by the fact that all of you kept…” He shook his head again, “You know, it’s just…it’s like you said; the past is in the past so we need to forget it and move on.”

“Agreed,” Tommy said.

“Yeah,” Thea nodded.

They all sat in silence for a moment before Diggle spoke, “Well, that was some heartwarming stuff. Are you guys going to do a group hug next or what? Because, for the record, I’m not really a hug kind of guy so leave me out of it.”

Tommy and Thea both snorted at that while Oliver rolled his eyes.

“Aw, come on, big guy,” Tommy joked holding out his arms to the other man with a ‘come here’ gesture. “Hug it out with me; let’s cuddle.”

Diggle eyed the other man coolly, “Merlyn, if I ever get the urge to wrap my hands around you it won’t be to cuddle.”

“He’s kidding; he loves me,” Tommy said drolly as he turned to Oliver. “Don’t ya, Big D?”

“Call me that again and the next time we’re out in the field I’ll shoot you myself,” Diggle retorted.

“Thanks but getting shot the one time was plenty,” Tommy tossed back.

Oliver’s brow furrowed at that, “Shot? What the hell are you talking about? And since when do you go out in the field?”

“Well, somebody had to wear the suit,” Tommy shrugged.

He rounded on Diggle angrily, “You let Tommy go out in the hood?”

“No,” the other man said easily. “Not the first time when he got shot, anyway; he did that on his own.”

“What?” he hissed.

“Alright; look,” Tommy said quickly. “I put on your hood one time to try to get some information out of Isabel, but I learned my lesson about that after she shot me.”

“She shot you?” he demanded angrily.

“Yeah, and then she kicked my ass ninja style and threw me off a building. I was okay though; it was just a graze…and some cracked ribs,” Tommy admitted. “Actually the worst part was when Felicity yelled at me afterwards because, as much as I love her, she can get pretty scary.”

“So whipped,” Thea snorted then turned to Oliver with a grin, “Tommy got a really cool tattoo to cover up the scar though. Sin, Roy’s friend, did it for him. It’s this really awesome fleur de lis and—hey, take off your jacket and show him,” she commanded.

“It’s too damn cold out here for that,” Tommy snorted. “He can wait to see it when we’re back home training in the lair.”

“The lair? You’ve been training Tommy?” Oliver demanded as he turned to his partner. 

“He’s been training me, too,” Thea said smugly.

“What?” Oliver asked, rounding on the other man with a hiss.

Dig immediately held his hand up in a placating gesture, “In self-defense,” he said easily. “There’ve been a few threats and, officially, I’m your family’s head of security so teaching her basic self-defense is part of my job. As for Tommy, I have been training him in more than just basic self-defense, yes, but that was mostly just to keep him busy and out of trouble. Other than that one time, Tommy hasn’t taken on any serious injuries and, most of the time, the only person who’s in the hood is me. The only time Tommy hooded up after that first time was when I couldn’t put on the suit and we needed the Hood to be seen by the cops in some other part of town.”

Oliver turned to Tommy with a scowl, “Why are you going out as the Hood at all?” he demanded before looking at Diggle as well, “Why are any of you? The Hood is dead! I left that behind me for good.”

“You might’ve left it behind, but the city still needs our help,” Tommy said with a shrug.

Oliver glared at him, “‘Our’ help?”

“Ollie, you started this mission of yours because Robert told you to help right his wrongs,” he said carefully. “My dad is the one behind every single ‘wrong’ your dad wanted to right. He murdered five hundred and three people including Laurel and did it while invoking my mother’s name.”

“That’s not your fault,” Oliver said automatically.

“Yeah, well, what Robert did wasn’t your fault either but you still put on the hood,” he pointed out.

“You’re not trained for this, Tommy,” Oliver said shaking his head. “What Dig and I do—“

“I know,” he stopped him. “Look, I’ve only been training with Dig for the last four months, okay? Other than some kickboxing lessons at the local gym and a couple of barroom brawls back in the day, that’s the extent of my fighting skills. I’m not trying to be you and I have no desire to be fitted for a cape, okay? I’m no hero but Dig needed someone to have his back and I volunteered. The only reason he let me do it in the first place was because I was the only one who actually fit in it. If Thea or Felicity could’ve done it I’m sure they would’ve been the ones volunteering to wear it instead.” Before the other man could object again, he added, “I was never in any kind of danger. All I did was plant a couple of bugs and provide a distraction or two and, like I said; while Diggle has been training me, I’m no Bruce Lee—yet.”

“Bruce Lee,” Diggle scoffed. “Hell, you’re not even as good a fighter as _Sara Lee_.”

“How do you know?” Tommy asked smartly, “For all you know Sara Lee could’ve been a total bad ass.”

“That’s true,” Thea chimed in. “After all, just because she was a girl that doesn’t mean she couldn’t also have been some kind of Amazonian warrior ninja who made cheesecakes on the side.”

“If she was then you definitely aren’t up to her skill level yet,” Dig said wryly.

“You’ve obviously never tasted my cheesecake then,” Tommy quipped.

“I don’t like this,” Oliver said again as he fixed Diggle with a disapproving look. 

“Of course you do, Ollie,” Thea said airily. “After all, nobody does it like Sara Lee.”

“What?” he hissed in confusion as he turned to his sister. 

She frowned at him, “You know; cheesecake.”

“That’s not the way it goes,” Tommy told her. “It’s not, ‘nobody does it like Sara Lee,’ it’s ‘nobody doesn’t like Sara Lee’.”

“He’s right,” Diggle nodded.

“That doesn’t make any sense!” Thea insisted. “‘Nobody _doesn’t_ like Sara Lee’? Why would anybody say that?”

“The whole point of going to a deserted island was so I could avoid conversations like this,” Oliver muttered under his breath as he glared at all of them in frustration. “Can we please get back to what it was we were talking about?” he said in a louder voice.

Thea waved him off, “We’ll get to that in a minute. After all, we have the whole night since the pilot said he’d come back to pick us up first thing tomorrow—I think,” she frowned. “At least according to what Diggle heard he is but I couldn’t understand anything he was saying. That guy talked like he was gargling a mouthful of marbles, plus he smelled like the bottom of a rabbit’s cage. In the meantime,” she rounded on Tommy and Dig, “You’re both wrong because that is definitely not what they said in all those commercial jingles and I should know. I did this whole binge without the purge thing back in junior high and Sara Lee was my drug of choice.”

Oliver shot his sister a dirty look, “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” she told him. “After you and dad disappeared, I gained like twenty-five pounds in less than three months and was heading for a serious case of diabetes until mom banned all sugar and hired me a nutritionist and a trainer. After that I cut out the hard stuff and turned to drugs and alcohol instead because, according to her, it’s better to be a fiend than a fatty.”

Oliver began to say something when Tommy cut him off.

“It’s not _‘Nobody does it like Sara Lee’_ , it’s _‘Everybody doesn’t like something but nobody doesn’t like Sara Lee’_ ,” he insisted as Diggle nodded in agreement. 

“That still doesn’t make any sense!” Thea insisted. “Why would anyone try to sell something by using a double negative?”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Tommy shrugged. “I just know I’m right because Felicity likes going down to the pub on Bannon and 8th for Trivia Night Tuesdays and that was one of the questions.”

Oliver paused at that, “The bar on Bannon and 8th is a front for the Irish mob,” he said slowly.

Tommy gave him a sheepish look, “Yeah, well, it was one of those ‘kill two birds with one stone’ kind of things. We went to do some recon and plant a few trackers and stayed for the awesome pulled pork nachos and stuffed potato skins.” 

Oliver turned his incensed gaze towards Diggle, “When I left, I decided to bury the Hood forever; let him fade into obscurity so people would think he died in the Undertaking!”

“That’s stupid,” Thea snorted.

Oliver did a double-take at that, “What?”

“Okay, so you return to Starling after five years on a deserted island and the Hood suddenly appears, _then_ you leave Starling a year later and the Hood suddenly _disappears_? Seriously, Ollie?” she said drolly. 

“Lots of people died in the Undertaking, Thea,” he said throwing Tommy an apologetic look. “The Hood could’ve easily died as well.” His mouth tightened and he shook his head, “The point is that I can’t be the Hood anymore. You should’ve let it go.”

“Sorry buddy, but that’s not really your call to make,” Tommy said off-handedly.

He rounded on the other man with an incredulous expression, “Excuse me?”

“You left,” Tommy reminded him. “You quit being the Hood but that doesn’t mean we did.”

“Tommy, Laurel died because the Hood couldn’t save her!” he said angrily. “Hundreds of people died because I couldn’t stop Malcolm! I killed people,” he reminded him. “You called me a murderer and for good reason. I can’t go back to that!”

“And we’re not asking you, too,” the other man assured him.

Oliver narrowed his eyes at that, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, the reason we need you back isn’t so you can be the Hood again,” he said easily. “You want to quit; we get that. If you don’t want to be the Hood again or even stay in Starling, that’s fine. All we need is for you to show up for this one meeting, officially sign over your proxy to Felicity so she doesn’t go to jail, help us get rid of Isa-bitch Ho-chev once and for all—“

“Hah!” Thea exclaimed with a triumphant fist pump.

“—and help us keep Moira from having a needle put in her arm,” Tommy continued. “While it would be nice if you could be there for your mom’s trial and stay for the wedding because I could use a best man, you don’t have to. Your mom has a solid legal team and Thea could wear the tux instead—“

“I would so rock the whole Marlene Dietrich look,” she agreed smugly. “And I would throw one hell of a combination Bachelor/Bachelorette party, too.”

“Yeah, well, Marlene aside; my point is that Diggle is wearing the suit now so, after everything is settled, you can keep doing whatever,” he continued. “I’ll buy you a plane and Felicity can set you up with some off-shore accounts and a new identity if you want to disappear. Or, if that idea doesn’t appeal to you, you can come back here and play Tarzan for the rest of forever, or you could try visiting your kid down in Central City—“ 

“They live in Central City?” Oliver asked suddenly.

“Yeah,” Tommy nodded.

Oliver took a moment to consider that before speaking again, “I don’t like the idea of you and Thea being involved in all this.”

“Yeah, well, like Tommy said; it’s not your call,” Thea said haughtily. 

“It is my call!” he scowled. “This is my mission, I’m the Hood, so it’s my call!”

She arched an eyebrow at that, “You quit, remember? You just got through giving us that impassioned speech about how the Hood was dead so, no; it’s not your call anymore.”

“You can’t have it both ways, pal,” Tommy added.

Oliver looked torn for a moment before sighing, “Fine, I’ll go back to Starling with you but, in exchange, no more going out as the Hood—for any of you!”

“Sorry, no deal,” Thea said easily.

Oliver’s eyebrows drew together at that, “What?”

She shrugged, “We want you back, Ollie, but you don’t get to dictate what it is we can and can’t do; not unless you put the hood back on and, even then, it’s our lives, not yours.”

“It’s dangerous, Thea,” he bit out.

“And it’s getting even more dangerous every day,” Dig said and, at his questioning look, explained, “Since the Glades fell there have been a lot of copycat Hoods cropping up; amateur vigilantes running off of anger and revenge who don’t really care about collateral damage.”

“Not to mention all the scavengers who have descended on the city looking to take advantage wherever and whenever they can,” Tommy added. “In addition to Isabel, we’ve also been duking it out with some sleazy aldermen and city officials looking to line their pockets with the disaster relief funds rather than making sure it goes to the people who really need it, along with these fly by night mob funded ‘construction companies’ who are supposed to be helping to rebuild but are instead pocketing the money and either take off or put up a bunch of death traps. If you think the corruption was bad before the Undertaking, you should see it now.”

“And companies are pulling out in droves,” Diggle said with a nod. “Kord, Ameritech, Luthorcorp, Wayne; all of them are talking about shutting down their manufacturing facilities and office buildings and leaving Starling.”

“And I think we all know that poverty plus a lack of job opportunities equals an increase in crime,” Tommy said darkly, “There’s all kinds of new designer drugs flooding the streets, reports of violent crimes are increasing, the cops are no help at all. After Laurel died, Lance was busted down to patrolman and is hanging onto his pension by a thread because he helped out the vigilante—even though he saved thousands of lives,” he said with a grimace, “So he can’t really help us within the department anymore, and the mayor and the DA’s office have declared a jihad on the Hood and every other vigilante they can find. All the other cops are following their lead so it’s like the Wild, Wild West out there.” 

“They even have this special task force to take out anybody they think is a vigilante so that means they can basically shoot first and ask questions later,” Diggle added.

“Yeah, and according to the news, gun sales in Starling have increased by over three hundred percent as a result,” Thea chimed in.

“And that doesn’t include the illegal gun sales,” Diggle nodded. “Ever since the Undertaking, it’s not just this ‘taskforce’ shooting up the city. It seems like most of the cops out there have taken on a shoot first and ask questions later policy. Just the other day three cops opened fire on a couple of teenagers making out in their car because the guy in the car was wearing a hoodie and, apparently, they thought they didn’t respond fast enough when they told them to exit the vehicle. The boy died and the girl is going to wind up in a wheelchair for the rest of her life,” he said somberly. 

“It wasn’t even a green or black hoodie, either,” Thea said tightly. “It was a red and gold Starling Archers hoodie. Apparently the guy was an honors student at SCU studying Forensics and she was a Criminal Justice major. Both of them had plans to enter the police academy after graduation.”

“And when they announced that they weren’t pressing charges against the cops involved, the crowd began to protest. A bunch of them gathered around the steps of city hall and showed up in Starling Archers hoodies holding up signs calling for a recall vote of the mayor and all of the city council members. The mayor, in response, ordered the commissioner to call in the riot squad—sorry _crowd management_ , to subdue the protesters,” Diggle said grimly, “It went from a relatively peaceful protest to a bloodbath in no time flat. Some of these copycat hoods decided to ‘help out’ and by the time the dust had settled two cops were in the ICU, one was in the morgue, and three more civilians were dead. Now everyone is too afraid to call the cops so they just handle it themselves which means more guns, more deaths, more copycat vigilantes…”

“And, that’s just the tip of the iceberg,” Tommy warned him. “If we don’t succeed in getting this merger approved, Stellmoor is going to sell Queen Consolidated off for scrap and even more people will lose their jobs and I think we both know that desperate people do desperate things,” he said pointedly. 

“People need us, Ollie; and you can’t stop us from wanting to help,” Thea told him. “All you can do is help us make it right.”

He looked around at all of them before nodding, “I--I’ll come back but that doesn’t mean I’m returning to the mission. I’m just…I’m not ready,” he said at last. ”Not only that but if cops are going after people in hoods, that means…” he sighed, looking at them with a hangdog expression, “Ultimately I’m responsible for those deaths.”

“That’s bullshit!” Thea told him.

“Thea, I’m the one who put on the hood in the first place,” he told her. “I’m the one who gave these copycat vigilantes the inspiration to go out on the streets.”

“Okay, so you put on a hood and helped people, that doesn’t mean you’re responsible for every dumb ass who decides to go out and bust someone upside the head with a baseball bat, or for a kid dying because a bunch of cops were quick on the trigger,” she told him. “Look, I used to think that I was tainted, that Malcolm being my dad and mom helping him with the Undertaking meant that I was somehow responsible for everything that happened—“

“That’s not true,” he said automatically causing her to shoot him a hard look.

“No shit, Sherlock,” she said flatly. “Of course, I didn’t get that until after I started talking to Dr. Mendes and she pointed out that no one is born ‘bad’ or tainted, and that the only people who can take responsibility for the things they do are the people who do them. Everybody is responsible for their own actions, Ollie,” she said firmly. “Yeah, you might’ve given these guys the idea to do what they did but you could argue that something they saw on TV made them do it, or the music they listened to made them freak out, or that they read one too many comic books when they were kids. It’s all bullshit though because those people _chose_ to do those things; no one _made_ them do anything, and you aren’t responsible for anyone’s choices but your own.”

Tommy leaned forward then spoke, “Look, it’s okay to want to help people and, while I may not have always agreed with your methods, you’re a hero, Ollie. You made the decision to save as many people as you could and you saved thousands of people that night. Five hundred and three people died, but a lot more than that would’ve died if both devices had gone off. The death toll would’ve been in the tens of thousands but you saved them,” he pointed out. “If the Hood never existed then a lot more people would be dead and that’s something to be proud of.”

“I get what you’re saying but I…I just can’t,” Oliver said with a pained expression. “I can’t be a killer anymore.” 

“No one is asking you to be a killer, man,” Diggle told him.

“Dig’s right,” Tommy said in a sympathetic tone. “For the record though, you aren’t a killer. You’ve killed people, yeah, but you were never a monster. Still, if you don’t want to be the Hood anymore then you don’t have to. Like I told you, that’s not why we’re here. All we want is for you to come home,” he said with a smile. “We can figure out the rest of it later.”

Thea moved until she was sitting next to her brother and leaned her head against his shoulder, “It’s going to be okay, Ollie.”

Oliver wrapped his arm around his sister and sighed, “Yeah.”

***

“Oh thank God!” Thea exclaimed as she got onboard the private jet Felicity had arranged to take them from Hong Kong back to Starling, “Why couldn’t we have just taken _this_ plane to the island in the first place instead of that deathtrap?”

“Because there wasn’t a runway on the island and it’s not exactly on the map,” Tommy said wryly as he stowed his bag in the overhead compartment. 

“Well, I am never going camping ever again but, if we do have to go back for some ungodly reason, next time I get to book our flight! Also I’m packing an air mattress and a portable shower and toilet. That whole digging a hole then having to poop behind a bush before burying it thing was just way too back to nature for me, you know? Now I know how it feels to be a cat using the litter box,” she pronounced before plopping down into one of the plush leather seats. “Now that’s better. I swear I didn’t get any sleep the whole time we were there. I kept thinking we were going to get attacked and eaten by a tigers in our sleep or something.”

Diggle and Oliver both looked on in amusement as they put their bags away as well.

“There are no tigers on the island,” Oliver told her, “None that I’ve ever seen anyway; just some wolves, deer, pheasant, rabbits, and boar.”

“Wolves?” she said with a gulp as she looked at him. “You didn’t tell me there were wolves.”

“They usually don’t come near the camp,” he assured her. “Now the boars are another matter entirely. They can actually get pretty dangerous.”

“Boars? Aren’t those just wild pigs?” she asked wrinkling her nose.

“Wild pigs that weigh anywhere from 450 to 700 pounds with tusks and teeth that can basically rip a grown man in two,” Oliver nodded. “I actually saw a herd of them attack some mercenaries once. They tore them to shreds before they could even get a shot off then ate whatever was left of them.”

“Oh, that’s…pleasant,” Thea said with a grimace. “Thank you so much for not telling me that sooner.”

“You’re welcome,” he said drolly.

“I’m never eating bacon again,” she muttered as she dug a sleep mask out of the seat back.

“I’m going to go catch some shut eye,” Dig told him, hitching his head towards the back of the plane. “It’s been a while since I’ve had to sleep on the ground and I have about a year and a half’s worth of sleep debt accrued so I’m looking forward to spending the next several hours making up for it.”

“Me, too,” Thea announced as she accepted a pillow and a blanket from the flight attendant then adjusted her sleep mask as she snuggled down in her seat. “Wake me up in sixteen hours when we land.”

“Do you gentlemen need anything?” the pretty Asian attendant asked sweetly, “Perhaps a drink or a snack?”

“ _No, I think we’re fine_ ,” Oliver told her in flawless Cantonese, “ _Thank you_.”

“Xiānshēng,” she said back with a nod. “And you, sir?” she asked Tommy as he sat next to Oliver.

“I’m good for now,” he told her with a smile, “If you could let me know when I can use my phone though I’d appreciate it. I promised my fiancée I’d call her when we were in the air.”

“I will be sure to have the captain turn on the light to let you know. _Wǎn'ān_ ,” she said before excusing herself and heading towards the cockpit.

He noticed Oliver giving him a strange look and frowned, “What?” he asked quietly so as not to disturb the others.

“I just…I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that you and Felicity are together, that’s all,” the other man said with a frown.

He shrugged, “Why wouldn’t I want to be with Felicity? She’s smart, kind, beautiful…”

“It’s just that she’s not your usual type,” Oliver said with a slight frown.

Tommy grinned at that, “And what is my ‘usual type’ exactly?”

“I didn’t mean to…” Oliver seemed to flounder a bit at that one, then sighed, “What I meant is that I’m still having a hard time with the fact that you’ve only known each other a few months and you’re already engaged.”

“I thought we already covered this back on Lian Yu?” he asked.

“We hit on it but we didn’t really discuss it,” Oliver argued.

Tommy gave him a cutting look, “Okay, Ollie; what is it you’re really worried about here?” 

“It’s just that I consider both of you to be my friends and I don’t want to see either of you get hurt,” he said quietly. “After all, you’ve been through a lot what with losing Laurel and dealing with Malcolm and the rest of it, and Felicity…”

“What about her?” he prompted.

“She’s…she’s special, that’s all,” Oliver said at last. “She has a good heart but I get the impression that she isn’t all that used to being around, um…” 

“Men?” he supplied, “Specifically the whole ‘billionaire playboy’ type like us?”

“Yeah,” the other man admitted reluctantly. “It’s just that you were with Laurel for a long time and Laurel and Felicity are nothing alike, that’s all,” he said at last.

“Well, you’re right about that,” Tommy chuckled. 

“I just don’t want her to get hurt,” Oliver told him. 

“I have no intentions of hurting Felicity,” he said seriously.

Oliver’s mouth tightened at that, “I get that, I do; I’m just worried that you might be rushing things a little.”

Tommy turned in his seat slightly, “Okay, first off, while I can understand why you’d think that, we aren’t rushing in blindly. It might not seem like we’ve been together long but, relatively speaking, we’ve been together for a while now.”

“A while being less than five months,” Oliver pointed out.

“Yeah, but during those five months we were together pretty much 24/7,” he countered. “Most people who date see each other, what? Maybe once or twice a week for a few hours at a time for the first month or so before moving on to overnight visits and weekends. They might consider moving in after six months then get engaged six months to a year after that? And even while they’re living in the same house, they only really get to see each other for a few hours a night and on the weekends since most couples don’t work as closely together as we do. Felicity and I live together, work together, after work we help Dig take care of the city together; if you were to add up all the hours we’ve spent together and compare us to those other couples, I think you’d find that we’re pretty much right on schedule. And, before you bring up Laurel again, relatively speaking, weren’t together for even half that before I moved in with her,” he said with a raised eyebrow. “We knew each other for a long time before we hooked up but we only slept together three times before you returned from the island-- _three times_ ,” he stressed. “And those three times were months—even years apart. We didn’t start ‘dating’ until after you returned and I think we can both agree that wasn’t a coincidence. Laurel used our ‘relationship’ to prove a point to you; that’s all. It was never about her wanting to be with me. I’m not trying to make her into the bad guy here but you keep talking about us like we were some epic romance worthy of a pithy portmanteau like ‘Merlance’ when the truth is _if_ we were such an epic couple, she wouldn’t have been practically declaring her love for you every chance she got while telling me it was never going to happen.”

Oliver’s brow furrowed at that, “Okay, while I can see what you’re saying, I’m still not sure that, um…”

Tommy held up a hand to stop him, “Look, Ollie; let’s just cut through the crap and lay it all out on the line here, okay?”

“Okay,” he nodded slowly.

“You were never a commitment kind of guy,” he said frankly. “You and Laurel were together for years and every time she brought up moving in together or talked about getting married, you practically broke out in hives. When she finally got you to agree to look for an apartment together, you freaked out and ran off with Sara.”

Oliver flinched at that, “I know I made a lot of mistakes, Tommy, which is why I’m trying to prevent you from making the same ones.”

“I can appreciate that but I’m not you,” he said easily. “I’ve never been you, Ollie. Your issues are not my issues; I have issues of my own, thank you, but fear of commitment is not one of them. Admittedly I didn’t have a whole lot of experience with being in a relationship before I was with Laurel but I never cheated on her, I never even thought about cheating on her, and I never balked at the idea of monogamy. I’m the one who pushed for the relationship and for us to move in together, not Laurel. She only let me move into her apartment because I needed a place to stay. Meanwhile, remember that thing with Rasmus when Taylor came to stay with us?” he shook his head and shifted uncomfortably before speaking, “On one hand, I was glad when they found that kid’s family but, before that, I was seriously thinking about asking Laurel if she would marry me just so we could adopt him. I’m serious,” he said at Oliver’s dubious look. “That kid had me thinking about stuff like coaching Little League and PTA meetings. Looking back at it now, I realize it was less about me and Laurel and our relationship which, to be honest, was already, well; _strained_ ,” he said ruefully. “It was about the kid and having a family of my own, if only for a little while. Meanwhile, Laurel was…so not in the same headspace I was,” he snorted. “She could barely even talk to me much less the kid. She was nice to him, don’t get me wrong, but I could tell that she was relieved when his uncles came to get him. She knew I was getting attached and that I was gearing up for a conversation she really didn’t want to have.” He shrugged again, “And I got it; while my paternal instincts were kicking into overdrive, her maternal ones were still in park, and that’s just the way it was.” 

Tommy paused for a moment before offering Oliver a melancholy smile, “Oh well, you know what they say; denial, it ain’t just a river in Egypt.” He offered him a lopsided grin, “The point is that I was never afraid of commitment. My issues stemmed from the fact that I _didn’t_ have anyone to come home to. You know that,” he said off-handedly, “Ever since I was a kid all I’ve ever wanted was to have a family of my own someday and now I do so...”

“Yeah, but—wait; family?” Oliver frowned at that, “Felicity’s pregnant? Is that why--?”

Tommy shot him an annoyed look, “Please tell me that you don’t think that the only reason I could possibly be marrying Felicity is because I got her pregnant?”

The other man’s eyes widened slightly at that, “Ah, no?”

Tommy gave him a disgruntled look, “Felicity’s not pregnant,” he said flatly. 

“Good,” Oliver said with a small sigh of relief.

“For the record we’ve discussed kids and, while we both want them, the plan is to wait a few years,” he continued. “After all, she’s only twenty-three so we have plenty of time. After this merger is settled, I’m thinking about going back to medical school and she wants to focus on her career for a while, so the plan is to wait another five years or so before we start picking out wallpaper for the nursery.”

The other man nodded, “That’s probably a good idea.”

“So glad you approve,” he said sarcastically.

“I’m not trying to start a fight, Tommy,” Oliver told him.

“I know and I get that you’re genuinely concerned for Felicity which is why I’m not socking you in the jaw right now even though I know what all this is really about,” he said evenly.

The other man’s frown deepened at that, “And what is it you think this is really about?” 

Tommy gave him a knowing look, “Ollie, the fact is that you and I have a bad habit of falling in love with the same women.”

His eyebrows drew together at that, “I’m not in love with Felicity,” he denied.

“Maybe, maybe not, but you definitely feel more than friendship towards her and I’m okay with that,” Tommy said with a shrug.

“That’s not—“ he began only to have the other man cut him off.

“Look, Ollie, Felicity was very honest about the fact that she had a crush on you once upon a time and that the two of you flirted a little but that it never went anywhere because you were focused on being the Hood and were in love with Laurel,” he said evenly. “Not to mention the fact that you were sleeping with half a dozen other women at the time. Well, maybe not that many but at least three women including Laurel anyway.”

Oliver’s lips tightened at that but he didn’t say anything.

“You know, back in the day, whenever I’d find a girl I liked and she’d wind up going home with you instead, I never said a word,” he said in low tones so as not to be heard by the others. “After all, that’s what a wingman is for; I’d bag ‘em, and you’d tag ‘em. And when you first came back from the island and I offered to stand aside so you and Laurel could try again, I did that because I knew, even though she was sleeping with me, that she never stopped loving you.”

“Tommy…” Oliver breathed as his expression filled with remorse

“But like you said; Felicity isn’t Laurel,” he said continuing on as if he hadn’t spoken. “She’s not like anyone I’ve ever met before, in fact. I loved Laurel; yes, but when I asked her if she was still in love with you, she denied it even though we both knew she was lying. I didn’t want to believe it so I let myself get in way too deep with her and, trust me; I learned my lesson,” he said seriously. “On our first date, even before we had a chance to order our drinks, I asked Felicity if history was repeating itself and she said no, that she had a crush on you at one time but that nothing would or could ever happen between the two of you. Do you know why?” he asked rhetorically, “Because, as much as she cared about you as a friend, ultimately you would always be the kind of guy who leaves.”

“She said that?” Oliver asked tightly.

“Yep,” he nodded. “She also told me that in all the months that you worked together you never once asked her anything personal about herself or her family.” Again Oliver blanched at that but he continued, “If you had asked though, she would’ve told you that her dad abandoned her and her mom when she was a kid.”

Oliver shifted uncomfortably at that, “He did?”

He nodded, “It’s just one of many things we have in common. Apparently, up until that moment, she’d had a pretty idealistic childhood, kind of like I did. They weren’t rich, but they were well off. They lived in a nice house in a nice neighborhood, had a vacation home, plenty of money, then one day her dad just took off. Turns out that he was a criminal; a super hacker or something which is where she gets it from. Anyway, she and her mom had no idea what was up. They just thought he was a computer programmer for Microsoft until the FBI came and seized everything.” Oliver looked up at him in surprise and Tommy again nodded in confirmation, “Hard to believe, huh?”

“Yeah,” he said, his eyebrows drawing together at that. “I didn’t…I didn’t ask about her family because I didn’t want to, y’know…” Ollie fumbled then ducked his head with a guilty expression. “I mean, I wanted to ask but she never mentioned anyone; no family or friends, so I figured she wanted to keep that part of her life separate or that she was alone so I didn’t want to push.” He looked back up at Tommy, “I never meant for her to think I didn’t care, I just wanted to…” he let out a harsh breath and shook his head. 

“It’s okay, Ollie,” he assured him. “Getting Felicity to talk about her family is like pulling teeth. I practically had to beg her to introduce me to her mom and that was after the woman showed up out of the blue and tackled both of us in a bear hug.”

Oliver’s eyebrows drew together at that, “You met Felicity’s mom?”

Tommy nodded, “Donna? Yup. In fact I’m now considered a ‘Smoak’ and she told both me and Thea to think of her as ‘Mom’. After that Thea started calling her ‘Mama Smoak’. One thing,” he said quickly, “don’t be surprised if when she meets you she tells you that you’ve been ‘Smoaked’ before grabbing you and kissing you on the lips. She does that; it’s her thing. Donna’s great though, really fun. My only complaint is that ever since Thea taught her how to actually hit ‘send’ she can get a little annoying with the texts; like fifty thousand of them a day, swear to God,” he said with a grimace. “Thea downloaded this app thing for her and now she has this fascination with emojis,” he said with a sigh. “Anyway,” he said settling back into his seat, “they went from this perfect upper middle class life to a one bedroom apartment in Vegas where her mom had to work sixty hour weeks in suicide heels as a cocktail waitress. Her father never sent any money, never called, never even tried to get back in touch with them since the feds were after him. For a while the cops hassled her because they were convinced she knew where her ex was but she didn’t. They even threatened to take Felicity away and put her in foster care so Donna spent the last bit of money they had left to hire a lawyer to divorce her husband in absentia for fraud and abandonment, then changed their last names back to ‘Smoak’. In any case, after everything she and her mom went through, the last thing she’d do is be with someone who…well…who has a habit of leaving when shit gets real.” As Oliver’s eyes once again suffused with guilt he grimaced, “No offense, man, but it is what it is. Look, I don’t know if you love her or not—“

“I don’t,” the other man said quickly but Tommy just nodded.

“Be that as it may, I do love her,” he said firmly. “I’m head over heels, madly in love with that girl, and she loves me back. Maybe we’re not this fight or fuck rollercoaster ride that you and Laurel were but, frankly, after being stuck on that rollercoaster with the two of you for the better part of a year, I’m perfectly happy standing on solid ground with Felicity. And we might not have known each other as long as you’d like, but we have a relationship built on honesty and communication. I’m not making the same mistakes with her that I made with Laurel, Ollie. I’m not leaving anything unsaid, we don’t let things fester. I told you about the shrink? Well, she suggested we go to couples therapy—“

“Couples therapy?” Oliver asked with a frown. “Are you guys having problems, or…?”

“No,” he said quickly, “that’s the point. We’re not going to couples therapy because we’re having problems; we’re going so we don’t have problems. Both of us have serious abandonment issues from our childhoods, and neither of us have ever seen a healthy relationship up close, so Felicity comes with me to therapy every other week so we can learn how to communicate better. I mean, I’m not a kid anymore, Ollie,” he said simply. “Thirty is right around the corner and I’m past all that high school drama shit so, whether you approve of what we have or not, that’s up to you, but this is our life, our choice; not yours, and I’m happy.”

“If that’s the case then I’m happy for you,” Oliver said carefully.

Tommy offered him a steady look, “Glad to hear it, because I’m not standing aside this time, man,” he warned him. “If Felicity tells me one day that she’d rather be with you; that would be one thing but, until then, I’m standing my ground.”

“I’m not going to move in on, Felicity,” Oliver said in low tones.

“You said that about Laurel and less than three hours later I stood in the middle of the street next to some giggling fat guy and a couple of teenagers as we watched you fuck her against the wall in front of an open window,” he said without heat. “They uploaded it to YouTube, by the way. Even though they keep taking it down it’s already got over a hundred thousand hits.”

The other man’s face flushed with anger, “Look, I’m sorry that happened, Tommy. I apologized for that. If I could take it back I would, but I can’t.”

“I’m not asking for an apology, Ollie,” he assured him. “Like I said before, Laurel and I weren’t together and, even if we were, she was her own person and made her own choices. I’m just saying that you have a habit of getting territorial and taking what you want, damn the consequences--but not this time,” he cautioned him. “You don’t want Felicity getting hurt and neither do I, so I’m telling you now that, if you were to try to make a move, then you’re not going to like what happens.”

Oliver’s eyes grew flinty at that, “Meaning?”

“I’m not going to do anything to you, man, so you can put away the death glare,” Tommy said wryly. “Like I said, I’m not worried about you making a play for my girl because we’re as rock solid as they come. For the first time ever, I am completely secure in my relationship,” he said emphatically. “What I meant is that Felicity is a hell of a lot more scary than I am and, if you tried making that kind of play, all you’d do is piss her the fuck off and she’d crush you like a bug before tanking your credit rating so, if I were you, I wouldn’t even try it.” 

Oliver seemed to absorb that for a moment before sighing, “You really love her, huh?”

“More than anything,” Tommy said without hesitation. “Like I said, I’m happy,” he shrugged. “Life’s not perfect by any means but, for the first time in my life, I know who I am, who I want to be, and I have someone to come home to. I have a family, Ollie; I have this great girl who’s gorgeous and funny, and who believes in me. I mean, Jesus; she’s fucking adorable,” he chuckled breaking out in a grin. “I look at her and I just smile,” he said happily. “Doesn’t matter what she’s doing, I just…she makes me crazy and—God,” he breathed, “I love that girl, man; I just love her. And it’s not just Felicity; I have a kooky mother-in-law who considers sequins and stilettos ‘casual wear’, and who thinks everything’s better with glitter, an annoying teenage sister who acts like she’s thirty, and I’ve got you back. I’ve got my brother,” he said reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. “I even have Dig who…well, I wouldn’t call him my ‘brother’ but we’re definitely inching towards becoming ‘bros’ as long as he doesn’t wind up killing me first.” He smiled again, “I have all that I’ve ever wanted after years of being alone and I’m happy; really happy. If I could marry Felicity tomorrow, I would. Hell, I think I was ready to marry her five seconds after our first kiss. Screw cold feet, man; I can’t wait until May gets here! I’m going to be sprinting down that aisle, let me tell you!” 

Oliver’s lips tilted up at that and he nodded, “In that case, I’m really happy for you both; truly.”

“Thanks,” he said clapping him on the shoulder with a crooked grin. “Now, are you sticking around for the wedding because, if so, then we should talk about the bachelor party?”

“The bachelor party?” the other man repeated with a hint of amusement.

“Yeah,” Tommy nodded, “First off; no strippers. While technically Felicity said strippers were okay because of the whole female empowerment thing,” he shook his head, “Something about owning one’s sexuality through pole dancing and how it’s great cardio; I’m a CEO now so that wouldn’t look good. I have to maintain an air of respectability or some crap. Secondly, we can’t do Vegas either because Donna lives there and, as much as I love my future mother-in-law, I don’t want her crashing my bachelor party. Don’t get me wrong; it’s not that she’d disapprove or anything. In fact, she’d probably wind up dancing on tables and getting all of us arrested by the end of the night. Still, no Vegas,” he said firmly, “Next, no booze.”

Oliver arched an eyebrow at that, “No booze?”

Tommy nodded, “I mentioned that after the Undertaking I went off the rails a little? Well, I wound up drinking a lot and nearly wrapped my car around a pole after cleaning out half the inventory at the club. Luckily no one was hurt and I didn’t get busted or anything. Lance took the call and, after giving me a verbal beat down over getting behind the wheel drunk, he agreed to let it go and say that I swerved my car to avoid hitting a dog as long as I promised to get help. I’m not an alcoholic,” he assured him, “but Lance warned me that I was headed that way. He knew the signs and then when Felicity and Thea found out, they made me agree to give up drinking and start seeing a therapist. Dr. Mendes made me realize that alcohol was becoming a crutch just like sex and partying used to be. Another reason I decided to give it up is because Thea was struggling, too. She got high a couple of times right after the Undertaking so we both made a pact that if I gave up drinking, she’d stay away from drugs, and we’d go to therapy together. Since then Thea has been completely clean and I haven’t had a drink in months so, yeah; no booze.”

Oliver nodded with a smile, “Okay; no booze. Anything else?”

“Nope, that’s just about it,” he said with a grin before holding out his hand, “So do I have a best man or is Thea wearing the tux instead? And keep in mind that if Thea is my best man then that means Diggle has to be Felicity’s maid of honor and I seriously doubt he’s going to be down with putting on a dress. Then again, you never know,” he said wiggling his eyebrows.

Oliver chuckled at that before taking a deep breath and clasping the other man’s hand warmly, “I guess you’ve got yourself a best man.”

“Awesome,” Tommy nodded. “Now that that’s settled, let’s talk about how we’re going to handle this Isabel situation…”


	4. Let's Be Businessmen Together!

BACK IN STARLING

“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be—“

“What the hell is going on?” Tommy burst out as soon as the doors to the elevator opened to the sight of Felicity being placed in handcuffs while Isabel Rochev and the rest of the board looked on.

“Ms. Smoak is being arrested,” Isabel said triumphantly. “And now that you’re here, they can go ahead and cuff you as well.”

“On what charges?” Everyone looked on in shock as Oliver stepped out of the elevator to stand next to Tommy.

“Apparently she murdered you and tried to steal your company,” Lance said sarcastically. “Unfortunately that’s now a bust. And here I thought Christmas came early this year.”

Oliver’s expression darkened at that, “Well, as you can see I’m alive and Ms. Smoak didn’t try to steal anything; I signed over my proxy to her months ago so you can uncuff her now,” he said coolly.

“We still need to take her to the station until the DA can confirm that—“ another detective began.

“What you need to do is uncuff Ms. Smoak right now or I’ll sue the DA and the police department for wrongful arrest,” Tommy said angrily. “Detective…?”

“Daily,” the other man bit out. “And I don’t answer to you, _Mr._ Merlyn so you can go right on ahead and call your lawyer because she’s coming with us. Just because your friend, Queen, is still kicking that doesn’t mean we’re done here. We still have some questions that she’ll need to answer down at the station.”

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” Tommy bit out. “Uncuff her right now, _Detective_ , or you’ll be lucky to get busted down to meter maid by the time my lawyers are done with you!”

“You know what? Screw you, you smug mother—!“ the detective began.

“Let her go, Daily,” Lance ordered.

“I don’t answer to you either, _patrolman_ ,” Daily returned with a sneer as his eyes swept over the uniform Lance was wearing instead of his usual suit and tie.

“But you do answer to me,” another voice said from the back of the room.

“Joanna?” Oliver asked with a frown as he recognized her, “What are you doing here?”

“I’m the new ADA,” she told him. “After the Glades fell and CNRI was destroyed, I left Wethersby & Stone to help out the DA’s office.” Her expression grew solemn, “I figured it was what Laurel would’ve wanted, and since they don’t have a lot of experience prosecuting white collar criminals I’m in charge of this investigation. Speaking of…” she turned to the detective who had yet to uncuff Felicity, “Let her go, Daily. I think it’s pretty obvious that Mr. Queen is still very much alive and, as long as he agrees to sign an affidavit confirming that he signed his proxy vote over to Ms. Smoak, this investigation is closed.”

“I’ll be happy to sign anything you need,” Oliver told her.

“Mr. Donner still has some questions for Ms. Smoak,” the detective said stubbornly.

“Unless she’s being arrested then the ADA can request an appointment, until then unlock the goddamn cuffs because she’s not going anywhere!” Tommy growled causing the other man to give him a look of pure loathing.

“Oh, don’t worry, Merlyn; I’m sure we can find you a set of cuffs, too,” Daily said with a cruel twist of his mouth, “Lance; cuff ‘em!”

“For what?” Thea demanded.

“Resisting arrest and interference with a police investigation,” the detective said with a sneer. 

“What investigation is that? The hunt for the murderer of the not dead guy standing over there or the investigation into the theft of the not dead guy’s company that was never stolen to begin with?” Lance asked with a mildly bored expression.

“I gave you an order, patrolman,” Daily spat out.

“And I told you to uncuff Ms. Smoak,” Joanna reminded him with a hard look. 

“Mr. Donner—“ Daily began only to have her cut him off.

“ADA Donner isn’t in charge of this investigation, I am,” Joanna said coolly, “Right now he has enough on his plate what with prosecuting Mr. Queen’s mother and posing in front of news cameras. Know what else he doesn’t have time for? The multi-million dollar lawsuit Mr. Merlyn and Ms. Smoak will be filing against you and the department, so unless you really do want to spend the rest of your career checking meters and writing parking tickets, I suggest you do what I tell you and unlock the cuffs.” Daily merely gave her a contemptuous look at that and snorted but Joanna didn’t back down. “As I recall you’re on pretty thin ice as it is Daily so here’s a little friendly advice that you can take or leave as you see fit: Let Ms. Smoak go before IA adds another page to your disciplinary file.” She then turned to Tommy, “Although, for the record, he’d probably just wind up being suspended without pay then fired. However, if they did decide to demote him instead, he’d be busted down to _Parking Enforcement_ since ‘meter maid’ is an outdated and sexist term.”

“Noted,” Tommy said grimly as he and Daily locked eyes.

Joanna frowned, “However, being terminated is the more likely outcome given all the recent budget cuts,” she added as an aside before turning to the man in question, “Of course, your union rep could fight it but I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you.” 

Daily’s jaw clenched at that and he let out a harsh breath, “Lezzie bitch,” he muttered under his breath as he unlocked the cuffs. “You heard _Ms._ de la Vega,” he said in a louder voice as he released Felicity, “you’re free to go, but don’t leave town. As I said, the DA still has questions.” he growled out.

“That’s _ADA_ , Daily, but thanks for the vote of confidence. I want you to know that I am truly touched by the fact that you have so much faith in my abilities,” Joanna said with feigned sincerity. “Until then, if _I_ have any more questions for Ms. Smoak, I’ll contact her legal team to arrange an interview.”

“Right,” Daily said mockingly, “Of course, Ms. de La Vega; my mistake.” 

As soon as she was free from the cuffs, Felicity rushed towards Tommy who immediately wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest.

“You okay, baby?” he asked in concern as she nodded against him.

“Yeah,” she said sounding a little shaken but otherwise okay. “I’m so glad you’re back.”

“Me, too,” he said before kissing her forehead then turned his eyes to Isabel, “By the way, what the hell is that bitch doing here? I thought I left standing orders with security that she was banned from the building?” he demanded cutting his eyes towards Michael and Walter.

“Excuse me?” Isabel asked coldly. “You can’t speak to me like that!”

“I can’t?” he asked then looked to Felicity questioningly. “Honey, am I allowed to speak to her like that?”

Felicity wavered for a moment before wrinkling her nose slightly, “Maybe just this once?”

“You heard him-- _bitch_ ,” Thea repeated with a little more relish than was strictly necessary. “Why are you here?”

“I’m here because I was invited by the board or directors and I own twenty-five percent of this company as well as Merlyn Global,” Isabel bit out.

“Point in fact, Ms. Rochev, you don’t own any stocks in either company,” Walter broke in smoothly. “Your employers at Stellmoor International do. Even so, you are not an employee here nor are you a member of our board of directors.”

“Yet,” she said with a smirk.

“Well, if that’s what you’re banking on then I think you’re going to be waiting a long time,” Tommy said with a stony expression as he released Felicity to tuck her into his side. 

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” she said triumphantly as a few members of the board shuffled their feet uneasily.

“I’m sorry, was there a meeting I was unaware of?” he asked as he cast his eyes over them coldly.

“Mr. Dennis apparently decided to stage a boardroom coup which would remove you as CEO and Ms. Smoak as CTO,” Michael said eyeing the man in question with no small amount of distaste, “As such he called an emergency board meeting to vote on that very thing, a meeting that neither Walter nor myself were aware of until just a few moments ago when the police attempted to arrest Ms. Smoak.”

“That’s quite a coincidence,” Tommy said in a similar tone before turning to Dennis expectantly.

Dennis clenched his jaw at that, “After we were made aware of the fact that Ms. Smoak was being arrested for fraud and conspiracy, the board along with Ms. Rochev felt that—“

“As Mr. Steele pointed out, Ms. Rochev doesn’t work for this company nor is she a member of the board so why would you be consulting her about anything, much less whether or not you should fire me or my fiancée? For that matter, what makes you think you have the authority call an emergency board meeting seeing as we control seventy-five percent of the stock in both Merlyn Global and Queen Consolidated and _Walter_ is the chairman of the board, not you?” Tommy asked him pointedly.

The other man flushed at that, “And as Ms. Rochev pointed out, she owns twenty-five percent of the shares in Queen Consolidated and Merlyn Global,” he said dodging the question.

“And, once again, the people on this side of the room control the other _seventy-five_ ,” Tommy reminded him. “Now, I’m not even going to split hairs here and, again, bring up the fact that _Stellmoor_ owns those shares, not Ms. Rochev, since she apparently signed an ironclad agreement twelve years ago—actually it was _several_ agreements that were extremely thick and filled with all kinds of legalese,” he said wryly, “preventing her from personally owning any of our stocks or seeking employment with either Queen Consolidated or Merlyn Global, or their subsidiaries. She’s lucky she was given the option of signing those agreements at all instead of being prosecuted given that she was officially terminated for embezzlement of company funds.” Isabel stiffened at that and Tommy smirked at her, “Oh yeah, we know a few things about you, too; like how, in addition to sleeping your way to the top, you used company funds to lease an apartment and--” he glanced down at her feet, “--buy yourself a whole lot of very expensive shoes. My fiancée is actually pretty good at finding out stuff like that,” he said giving Felicity a beaming grin before turning back to Isabel who was, by then, practically trembling with rage. “It’s actually pretty clever the way you tried to do an end run around that by having Stellmoor buy the shares then trying to get yourself _appointed_ to the board while maintaining your position as Vice President of Acquisitions for Stellmoor,” he said smoothly. “It honors the letter of the law if not the spirit, and gets you exactly what it is you want without opening you up to one _hell_ of a lawsuit. Nice try; seriously. Too bad it failed,” he shrugged, giving her a sympathetic look then paused. “Of course, it would’ve failed anyway since appointing you to the board would’ve violated the Forty Percent Rule as regulated by the SEC.” 

“The Forty Percent Rule?” Oliver asked in confusion.

Joanna looked over at him, “At least forty percent of the board has to be made up of members who have no vested financial interest in the company so as to remain impartial. Board members also can’t work for companies which are in direct competition with the company or who would benefit directly from its collapse.”

“Which Stellmoor most certainly would,” Walter added with a proud smile as he looked over at Tommy.

“See? I was paying attention during those power point sessions you and Michael forced me to sit through after all,” Tommy told him.

“Only after we bribed you with Sour Patch Kids and Jolly Ranchers,” Felicity muttered. 

Tommy shot her a disgruntled look, “The point is that I paid attention. Speaking of which…” he told her before turning back to Dennis.

“Mr. Dennis,” he said slowly, “I’d like to point out that you, along with every other person here, signed confidentiality agreements as well. Therefore any communications you may have had with Ms. Rochev are in violation of said agreement not to mention SEC regulations pertaining to misappropriation of confidential information,” he smirked at that, “I may not have gone to business school but, as I just got through explaining, I have done my homework and, as I recall, section IA, subsection 14, of the contract you signed states that, ‘The duty of loyalty requires that board members exercise their powers in the interests of the company and not in the members' own interests or in the interests of another person or organization, nor may they engage in disabling conduct on behalf of a foreign organization’,” he took a breath at that, “And any violation of that contract or of the NDA you _all_ signed leaves you open to some pretty hefty lawsuits and allows for your immediate removal from the board.”

“You don’t have the authority to remove me from the board!” Dennis huffed.

“That’s true,” Felicity said, her voice gaining in strength as she stepped away from Tommy and glared at the other man. “However, Mr. Merlyn can vote on the removal of any member during an official board meeting as long as he has due cause to do so and, since _you_ called an emergency board meeting for that express purpose, albeit for me and Tommy and not for yourself, and all the majority stockholders are present, we can do that right now.”

“You can’t do that!” another board member by the name of Wickham protested.

“Oh, I think we can,” Tommy said toothily, his eyes glinting as he looked between the two men, “Motion to dismiss the board in its entirety and appoint new officers?”

“Aye,” Walter, Michael, Felicity, Oliver, and Thea, along with three other board members chimed in leaving Dennis, Wickham, and the remaining board members frozen in shock.

“Motion carried,” Tommy said smugly before turning to Dig, “Mr. Diggle?”

“Yes, Mr. Merlyn?” Dig asked in a professional tone.

“Can you please see to it that security retrieves their ID badges and escorts these gentlemen off the premises, then have them alert IT and let them know that they need to be taken out of the system?” Tommy asked smoothly and Diggle immediately whipped out his cell phone then stepped away to make the call. “Also, Mr. Graham,” he said turning to the older man on his left, “Can you have your EA contact our legal team and have them join us upstairs? Oh, and since we’re going to need to discuss filing breach of contract lawsuits against Mr. Dennis, Mr. Wickham, and the other former members of the board, we might as well discuss the possibility of getting a TRO on Ms. Rochev while we’re at it, and then we need to contact the SEC about possible criminal charges against her as well as sanctions against Stellmoor International.”

“This is illegal! You’re the one who’s in violation of dozens of SEC regulations right now!” Isabel said angrily, her cool mask of smug indifference replaced by white hot fury.

“Am I?” Tommy asked with a frown before turning to Joanna. “Ms. de la Vega, I know you’re an ADA now but you used to be in corporate law; is what I just did illegal or in violation of SEC regulations?”

“Well, I’d have to look over those agreements you mentioned before I could say for sure but it sounds pretty legal to me,” she said with a hint of amusement. 

“It also sounds to me like the SEC may be asking Ms. Rochev quite a few questions in regards to her allegedly conspiring with other members of the board in order to illegally gain control of this company,” Michael added smugly.

“You heard ‘em,” Tommy said with a shrug. “But if you, Mr. Dennis, or any other _former_ member of the board have any questions about that, then all of you are welcome to consult your own attorneys. I know we will since we’ll be suing you along with everyone else who our legal department finds to be in breach.”

Wickham came forward looking between them nervously, “Mr. Merlyn, surely we can come to some sort of agreement here—“

“I’m sorry,” Thea said stepping between them and channeling Moira, “Mr. Merlyn can’t really comment on any on-going legal actions but I’m sure our attorneys will be in touch with you shortly.”

As the security team filed into the room, Tommy gestured for them to begin escorting most of the men out. The only three left besides their group, Walter, and Michael, were Duncan Ambrose, Doug Carmichael, and Elizabeth Strong. 

They were the board’s impartial ‘Forty Percent’; none of them worked directly for either QC or Merlyn Global and each of them had an impeccable code of honor.

Duncan, for example, had been on the board of QC since Robert’s grandfather was in charge. He started off as a teenager working in the steelworks, worked his way through college, then eventually started his own consulting business and was later appointed to QC’s board of directors. He was old school, rarely smiled, and sort of reminded Tommy of the drill sergeant from Full Metal Jacket, but the man was solid as a rock.

Elizabeth Strong served on the board at Kord Industries before their West Coast branch was absorbed by Merlyn Global and her name matched her personality perfectly. She was the anti-Moira basically; raven haired and caramel skinned to Moira’s blue eyed blonde, compared to Moira’s polite dissemblance she was far more direct and plainspoken, and she had a way of looking right through you and cutting through the shit no matter who she insulted in the process. Many times people were appointed to boards due to political connections or nepotism rather than business acumen but Elizabeth had earned her spot due to the fact that she was razor sharp and tough as nails, not to mention loyal to a fault.

Last was Doug Carmichael. He was the youngest member of the board having replaced his father upon his death. Technically his ‘impartiality’ was a bit of a grey area since he was Thea and Oliver’s cousin. However, he didn’t have any direct financial ties to the Queens or to QC since his mother was a Dearden which is why Moira asked him to take his father’s place, but he was still a pretty decent businessman. Unlike most of the Dearden clan, he didn’t go into politics or law. Instead he went into the Peace Corps then returned to the States to start a non-profit that built low income housing and homeless shelters. He was a nice guy with a big heart and a good head on his shoulders and was very supportive of all the relief initiatives Tommy proposed to the board. The other man even helped him with several of them by suggesting cost effective ways to provide support to the people of the Glades without putting a strain on company resources. 

Needless to say, over the last five months since Tommy began working as CEO of Merlyn Global, those were the only people on the board besides Felicity, Walter, and Michael whose opinions he actually trusted. It was nice to see that his trust in them had not been misplaced. 

“Well, ladies and gentlemen, shall we adjourn to the boardroom to discuss appointing new officers as well as the terms of this merger?” Walter asked before turning to Isabel who had yet to budge despite the fact that she was flanked by two rather burly security guards. “Oh, and Ms. Rochev, you may want to inform your superiors that they’ll need to arrange for another representative to discuss any ongoing business they might have with our company. As I understand it, Mr. Merlyn has filed a sexual harassment complaint as well as a hostile workplace grievance against you with both our own human resources department as well as with Stellmoor and the EEOC and until those complaints are settled, company policy states that you are no longer permitted on the premises.” He looked to the two security guards on either side of the woman in question, “Please have Ms. Rochev’s picture posted at the security gate and then have her removed from the building. Also remind them that she is banned from the premises unless Mr. Merlyn or I say otherwise and is not to be allowed past the lobby. If she attempts to re-enter the building, she is to be detained and the police called.”

As soon as one of the security guards approached her she rounded on him and hissed out a low warning before fixing Oliver with a deadly glare, “You might want to think twice about who it is you should be trusting to run your company, Mr. Queen.”

“Ms. Rochev, I know exactly who I should and should not be trusting to run my company and it isn’t you,” Oliver said bluntly.

“Maybe it should be,” she parried. “After all, you’ve been gone a while and there are things you may not be aware of. Perhaps we should get together to discuss them sometime?” 

“There’s nothing you could say to me that I’d be interested in hearing unless it’s to discuss the possibility of Stellmoor selling us back our stocks,” Oliver said with a disinterested air.

“Oh, I think you’ll want to hear me out,” Isabel said in a mildly threatening tone. “Like I said, I have some information related to some past associates of yours that I think you’ll find very interesting; information that you may not want to be made public.”

“I’m sorry, are you attempting to blackmail me in front of several members of the SCPD and ADA de la Vega?” he asked in mock confusion.

“It sort of sounded that way to me,” Joanna said, looking at the other woman with a glint in her eye.

“I’m merely passing on some friendly advice,” Isabel said with a brittle smile.

“When I want advice, Ms. Rochev, I’ll ask someone I trust, not one of my father’s ex-mistresses hell bent on stealing his company just because he dumped her twelve years ago,” he said dryly causing her mouth to tighten to a thin line. 

“You have no idea what you’re talking about!” she spat.

“Ms. Rochev—Isabel,” Oliver said with a feigned smile, “You seem like a fairly savvy businesswoman so I’m going to do you a favor and give _you_ a little advice: I loved my father very much, but he had a lot of affairs so, while I get that you think he loved you and that he owed you something, I can assure you that you were just one of many so I suggest you move on.”

Isabel’s face turned beet red at that, “One way or another I am going to take this company whether you like it or not.“

“Ms. Rochev, it’s time to go,” Dig told her and motioned for the security guards to remove her.

The minute one of the guards placed his hand on her elbow she snatched it back and pointed her finger at Oliver, “You’re going to regret not listening to me when you had the chance.” She then turned to Tommy, “And you,” she sneered, “I’m going to enjoy burying you. And your little dog, too,” she said cutting her eyes towards Felicity.

“Why? What did I ever do to you?” Felicity huffed. “Drop a house on your sister or something?”

“Good one, honey,” Tommy said with a grin before turning to Joanna, “Hey, I know you’re a big time ADA now and that you don’t work here so taking out the office trash isn’t in your job description, but could you…?”

“My pleasure,” Joanna said with a nod. “Officers, can you please help these men escort Ms. Rochev out of the building and, if she refuses to go, arrest her for trespassing?”

“Much as I hate doing Queen a favor, I’m willing to make an exception this one time,” Lance said gruffly as he stepped forward, already pulling out his cuffs. “Now do you want to do this the easy way or the hard way?”

“I’m going!” Isabel snapped as she rounded on her heel and stopped out the door, the security guards and the other detectives trailing after her. She stopped suddenly and turned back, her long brown hair whipping around dramatically, “But I’ll be back and, when I do I’ll enjoy watching you—“

“Bored now! Why is this bitch still here again?” Thea asked belligerently as she looked to the security guards.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Lance said as he hustled her into the elevator. “You can write him a love letter later but right now you’ve got to go. Thanks Merlyn, it’s been real educational,” he said to Tommy as he walked past him. 

“Yeah, bye Felicia!” Thea called out after her. “See ya on the catwalk and don’t let the door hit ya on the way out!” As soon as the elevator doors closed on the other woman’s face, she turned to them with a smug expression, “Well, that felt good. Actually that felt _really good_ ; like better than sex good!”

“Then you obviously haven’t been doing it right,” Felicity said with a frown. “I mean, that was good but, trust me; there’s this thing Tommy does with his—“

“I did not need to hear that,” Oliver muttered grimacing in disgust.

“Tell some, save some, honey,” Tommy said quickly as he placed his hand over her mouth and snuggled her deeper into his side. “Although I really am good at that tongue thing, aren’t I?” he murmured to her.

“You really are,” she said with a slight grin. “And did I mention that I really, really missed you while you were gone?”

“Well, maybe later we can play catch-up,” he said with a wink before turning to Joanna, “Until then, thanks for the surprise homecoming party, Jo,” he said with a hint of sarcasm. “I’m assuming there’s cake?”

“Cute,” she said dryly, “Look, this wasn’t my idea; I’m just following orders—and do not compare me to a Nazi, Merlyn,” she warned him just as he opened his mouth in rebuttal. “You already knew this was coming which is why I called you less than a week ago and strongly advised you to bring Queen home ASAP. Right now Kate Spencer is the acting DA and she isn’t exactly a fan of anyone with the last names Merlyn or Queen, especially after that interview you did with Snapper Carr. Ever since he and that Kent guy started making it their personal mission in life to dog her every move in the press, she’s been itching for an excuse to bust you. She’s still seething over the fact that she had to recuse herself from Moira’s case because of that stuff Kent dug up about her once having an affair with Robert Queen.” 

“Wait, my dad slept with the DA, too?” Oliver asked with a pained expression.

“Apparently he got around, kind of like you,” Joanna said giving him a dirty look before turning back to Tommy. “And in case you missed it, Donner was _especially_ looking forward to me busting both you and your fiancée because he’s pissed at you two for turning his slam dunk case into a three ring circus with him and Kate taking turns driving the clown car. He’s been trying to ride this case all the way to the DA’s office and you two are making him actually work for it.” 

“Donner the Brown Nosed Reindeer still thinks he actually has a shot at becoming the DA?” Tommy asked wryly.

“Oh yeah,” she confirmed. “He’s dying to give Kate a run for her money come November. Personally, like you, I think he’s kidding himself. The guy’s a spineless little weenie with no balls and less brains but—and you didn’t hear this from me,” she warned him with a pointed look.

“Hear what? I didn’t hear anything. Did you hear anything, honey?” Tommy asked Felicity.

“Not a thing,” she said shaking her head innocently.

“You heard the lady; now what is it we didn’t hear, again?” Tommy asked cheekily causing Joanna to roll her eyes.

“God, you’re such a pain in the ass. Are you sure you really want to marry this guy?” she asked Felicity.

“Kind of, yeah, but then again I’m a glutton for punishment,” she said wrinkling her nose slightly.

Tommy just grinned and kissed her cheek playfully before addressing Joanna again, “So what is it we’re not supposed to know?”

“Just that your friend, Ms. Rochev, has been a frequent visitor to City Hall as of late,” she told him. “She’s been spending a lot of time in Donner’s company and has been laying it on thick with the mayor and a few of the city aldermen. I don’t know what she’s up to but with an election year right around the corner a lot of people are up for sale and she seems willing to pay top price to get what she wants.”

“And what she wants is this company,” Michael said grimly.

“What does that have to do with bribing the mayor or the city council?” Oliver asked, his brow furrowed in confusion, “I could see her cozying up to Donner and the DA against my mom but we don’t have any contracts with the city as far as I know.”

“They could be planning on blocking our bid to rezone the warehouse district by the bay,” Elizabeth suggested, speaking up for the first time. 

Tommy turned to her, “That doesn’t make sense though. We were planning on putting up low income housing there to _help_ the people in the Glades; why would they want to block that?”

“Tommy’s right; blocking that project makes no sense,” Doug said with a frown. “The money we’ll be saving the city by footing the bill for that project could be used to fix the city infrastructure, hire more cops, more firefighters; who would want to vote against that?”

“Quite a few people actually,” Duncan told them. “Even though most people in Orchid Bay claim to be horrified by what Malcolm did, more of a few of them were secretly happy to finally be rid of the ‘undesirable elements’ infesting the Glades. If we proposed putting up condos or even a parking structure there they wouldn’t have a problem with it, but many of them think that building low income housing will further erode property values.”

“And the lower the property values, the fewer taxes the city can collect from property owners,” Liz said astutely.

Michael nodded in agreement, “Same thing with your idea to reopen some of the plants to bring in more jobs. Most of them were hoping to gentrify those neighborhoods with the redistricting. They have visions of four star hotels, fancy waterfront restaurants, and strip malls dancing in their heads.” 

“What good would hotels and stores do if people can’t pay to shop in them?” Tommy countered.

“Tommy, dear; you’re trying to use logic and politics and common sense rarely mix,” Liz said with a snort.

“She’s right—unfortunately,” Michael said with an air of resignation, “While they want more money coming in, they think the warehouses and plants will mean more blue collar jobs which seems like a step back when what they want is to turn the Glades into another Platinum Flats or Rodeo Drive. What they think we should be doing is what LA did in 2009 when they decided to gentrify Skid Row by overturning affordable housing requirements and driving out the homeless by forced busing and criminalizing poverty.” 

Oliver frowned at that, “What?”

Walter turned to him, “Around the same time the Gambit went down, some developers sued the city of Los Angeles to have the affordable housing requirements overturned which would force them to continue to provide a certain percentage of rent controlled apartments to the public. Because only the very wealthy could afford to live there, this drove out all the middle and lower income families. They then lobbied for certain gentrification ordinances to be put in place; everything from building a walking bridge above street level so that people wouldn’t have to see the homeless anymore to having police officers issue tickets for ‘quality of life’ crimes. If someone was caught say, sleeping in a cardboard box during the daytime, they could be issued a ticket and arrested. If they couldn’t pay the fine, which they couldn’t as they were homeless, they were then bussed out and dropped over the county line where they became someone else’s problem.”

“Kind of like taking out the trash and dumping it in the neighbor’s yard,” Liz said with a grimace.

“And these aldermen want to do that here?” he asked with a scowl.

“Yup,” Joanna nodded. “But, like I said, you didn’t hear it from me.”

“Who does she have in her pocket, do you know?” Tommy asked her.

“It would be easier to tell you who she doesn’t have in her pocket,” Joanna said with a sigh. “It’s a pretty short list, too. In fact, the only guy I know for sure who is pushing to have the rezoning approved besides Paul Janoush is a guy by the name of Sebastian Blood.” 

Tommy frowned at that, “Who’s he? I thought I knew the names of pretty much all the heavy hitters up in Orchid Bay but I’ve never heard of that guy.”

“He’s not from Orchid Bay,” she told him. “He’s from the Glades.” 

“The Glades aren’t an independent ward; they don’t have a seat on the board of aldermen,” Doug pointed out. “Well, other than Bowen, not that he ever gave a crap,” he added. 

“Well, they do now,” she told them. “The mayor was trying to figure out a way to appease the public after that mess during the protest so he split up Ward Six into two separate districts. Bowen has everything over the bridge towards Orchid Bay while Blood has been appointed as the new alderman representing the Glades.” 

“That must’ve pissed Bowen off,” Tommy said ruefully. “He’s been over Ward Six forever.”

“I honestly think he was relieved to get rid of it,” Joanna said with a shrug. “He’s never been interested in the Glades; the only people he ever tried to help was himself and his golf buddies in the financial district. As for Blood, I’ve never met him but he’s apparently a real do-gooder who started off as a community organizer down in Bludhaven then moved up here a few years ago.”

“We might want to try reaching out to this Alderman Blood; see if we can get him on our side,” Doug suggested. 

“I don’t know how effective I’d be at that seeing as he represents the Glades and my last name’s Merlyn,” Tommy said uncertainly. “Even with the Glades project, we’re sort of at opposite ends of the spectrum right now--especially if this thing gets stonewalled in the planning stages,” he said ruefully. “I wouldn’t blame him if he accused me of being the one behind getting the project tanked. After all, just proposing the project and offering to pay for it makes me look like the Great White Hope who tried to save the poor brown people. He could say I got my rich fat cat buddies to block me so I could just shrug and say, ‘Oh well, I tried,’ then walk away with a bunch of great publicity for not actually doing anything.”

“I could try,” Oliver offered.

“You?” Joanna asked dubiously.

He shrugged, “Why not? It’s my city, too, right?”

“Since when have you ever been interested in politics, Queen?” she asked with an arched eyebrow.

“I’m not interested in politics but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to help,” Oliver told her. 

“I don’t know if he would be interested in listening to you either,” Felicity said carefully. “After all, your mom’s trial starts in a week and he is the alderman for the Glades,” she said with an apologetic look, “He might not want to risk alienating his constituents, especially since we have an election year coming up.”

“Maybe even sooner than we think if that recall vote comes through,” Tommy pointed out.

“I can at least try,” Oliver said with a grimace. 

“I know some people close to Blood,” Joanna offered reluctantly. “Officially I can’t be seen doing you guys any favors but I can make a few discreet phone calls, ask him if he’s willing to meet with you; no guarantees though,” she cautioned. “Like I said, I don’t really know this guy, I just know him by reputation, but from what I’ve heard he’s not overly fond of the one percent.”

“Thank you,” he told her in a subdued tone. “I understand it’s a longshot but it’s what Laurel would’ve wanted.”

Joanna’s expression tightened at that and she stepped towards Oliver with a hard look, “Let’s get something straight here: Laurel was my friend and, for whatever reason, she was hung up on you but I don’t like you. I have _never_ liked you. I didn’t like the way you treated her before you took off with her sister, and I especially don’t like the fact that she basically tanked a promising career by just being around you. Tommy I never had a problem with because, even though he and Laurel broke up before she died, he was always a decent guy who tried to make her happy. Why she chose to pick you instead then get caught up in all that toxicity and chaos you seem to drag behind you is beyond me. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t even hand you a bucket of piss if your ass was on fire,” she said flatly, then let out a frustrated breath, “But I’m willing to help you out this _one_ time if it means getting that housing project Tommy’s been working on approved. After this though, we’re done; no more favors. Not for you anyway. You can go straight to hell as far as I’m concerned.”

“Understood,” Oliver said with a nod.

“I’ll tell his people to call you at your office. Assuming you even have an office,” she said with a disgruntled look eerily similar to the one Lance always seemed to wear especially around Ollie.

“Just give them my card and I’ll make sure Ollie gets the message,” Tommy told her. “Thanks Jo; I know you’re going out on a limb here and I appreciate it.”

“It’s okay; I can take a little heat. Even if the DA fires me I could always go back to my old firm. Besides, it’s for the greater good, right?” she said relaxing slightly, “And, again; sorry about having to arrest your girl. Hope this doesn’t make things awkward next time we do Trivia Night down at Clancy’s.”

Felicity shrugged, “You were just doing your job. Actually, I’m glad it was you and not just that Daily guy. He gave me the impression that he was looking forward to breaking out the rubber hoses and phone books once he got me alone.” She frowned and turned to Tommy, “Do they still make phone books? And how exactly do they get the rubber hoses into the interrogation room without anyone noticing?” 

But Tommy wasn’t laughing about it.

“That guy is turning into a real problem, Jo,” he said darkly. “I’ve been trying to keep my cool and not file a complaint against the department because of Moira and what we’re trying to do in the Glades, but this guy has been practically stalking me and Felicity for weeks now.”

“What’s he been doing?” Oliver asked with a frown.

“Anything and everything he can to try and rattle us,” Tommy said grimly. “Everything from pulling over our car to say we were going three miles over the speed limit to dragging in inspectors to try and delay the reopening of the club.” 

“Then there’s the fact that someone punctured all four tires on Tommy’s car the other day and left a switchblade in the sidewalls,” Diggle added as he moved to stand next to Jo. 

“You think it was Daily?” she asked with a frown.

“I don’t know but I do know he showed up the second I pulled the blade from the tire and threatened to bust me on an illegal weapons charge,” Tommy told her. “Then he made a veiled threat about how a rich pretty boy like me probably wouldn’t last long in lock up.”

She shook her head and sighed, “He’s a problem for sure which is why I came along personally to make sure nothing happened but, I have to warn you, they already know Daily is dirty as hell and he’s still got his shield for a reason. Things are crazy out there right now. Even before the Undertaking the blatant corruption within the city government and the SCPD was outrageous, but now?” Her eyebrows rose at that, “There’s a reason I decided to join the DA’s office and why I know that, had Laurel lived, she would’ve done the same. It seems like no one even cares about justice or the law anymore. I know of at least three pending brutality complaints against the guy along with a well-buried corruption charge but between the city worker’s strike, armed vigilantes in the streets, and the mayor’s mishandling of the shooting, the unofficial line is that a bad cop who gets the job done is better than no cops at all. Since the guys he goes after are definitely the bad guys, they don’t care; results are results and all the DA’s office cares about these days is closing cases and upping their conviction rates—even if the chain of evidence is less than pristine or a few bucks light by the time it makes it into lock up.” She gave him a steady look, “Look, I hate the guy. He’s a racist, sexist, homophobic, bigoted piece of shit that uses his badge like it’s a free pass to do whatever the hell he wants. I hate everything that son of a bitch stands for and I’d love nothing more than to help get that scumbag off the streets, but I haven’t been with the DA’s office long and I’m still pretty much seen as the odd girl out there so they don’t really trust me yet. To them I’m just a rich hotshot do-gooder that left a six figure salary and a cushy corporate law job for 40k a year and an office next to the can. And, let me tell you, since the city worker’s strike, things around my ‘office’ have been _less than fresh_ ,” she said with a huff. 

Tommy raised an eyebrow at that, “Have you…tried using those little tree things they put in cars or maybe some spray?” he asked awkwardly. “Felicity keeps some in our bathroom that works pretty good for us. It smells like apple pie which is kind of weird considering what it’s supposed to be covering up but, at the same time, it’s also kind of fitting because we eat a lot of pie.” 

“Tommy!“ Felicity hissed.

“Well, we do,” he protested and then at her scowl he gave her a sheepish look, “I’m just trying to be helpful.”

“Thanks for the help and, yes; I have tried the tree things,” Jo said dryly. “I’ve also put another hole in the ozone layer trying to beat the stink back with everything from Fresh Mountain Breeze to Clean Cotton and my office still smells like a tree farted through a dryer sheet. I don’t know if I want to add pie to that, too. Right now though I’m more concerned with the stink coming off Daily,” she said with a grimace. “I know Lance doesn’t like him which is why he volunteered to come here even though you guys have a history,” she cut her eyes towards Oliver as she spoke, “and I know that IA has been giving him the stink eye for a while. All I can do though is make a few phone calls on the DL; make sure his captain and the Chief of D’s know that he’s pissing somebody off who has deep pockets and can afford to get litigious then suggest he tell him to back off a little. Hopefully that’ll do it but I can’t afford to make too many waves, right now. If it doesn’t work and he hassles you again, go ahead and file. At least then it’ll be on the record.” She paused, “Although with cops getting away with basically shooting anybody who looks at them cross-eyed these days, I don’t know how far it’ll get before someone chucks it in the round file.”

“This is bullshit,” Tommy grumbled. “Are you telling me that this mother--!”

“Sweetie,” Felicity placed a warning hand on Tommy’s chest and gave him a stern look before he relented. As soon as he backed down she turned to the other woman, “It’s not your fault, Jo. Thanks for doing what you can and as for the arresting me thing? No hard feelings; seriously. Like I said, while I would’ve preferred to not be arrested at all, I’d rather be arrested by someone I know I can trust than by a psycho with a badge any day. Besides, I’m not going to let a little thing like almost getting arrested break up Team Nacho Mama. While Tommy has the sports trivia down and I have the science, we still need you and your girlfriend to help with history and art so we can keep winning free loaded potato skins and hot wings once a week.”

“So it’s just carbs under the bridge, then? Gotcha,” Joanna smiled at that before turning to Tommy, “I like her—a lot. Hang on to her, Merlyn, or me and my girl might try to lure her away to our lesbian love shack with promises of stuffed potato skins and Barbara Streisand film fests.”

“Oh, I intend to; believe me. In fact, expect a Save the Date card in the mail once we figure out the date we want to save but keep the month of May free just in case,” Tommy said with a grin, his mood elevating somewhat as he ran his hand down Felicity’s side to rest lightly on her hip. “And thanks Jo; say hi to Lisa for us, okay?”

“Will do,” she said before turning to the elevators and waving at them from over her shoulder.

“If this Detective Daily is harassing you, we need to get legal on it right away,” Michael broke in with a stern expression as soon as the elevator doors closed.

“Michael’s right,” Doug said with a concerned look. “And something has to be done about this Rochev woman. She reminds me of some warlords we used to have to deal with while I was in the DRC with the Peace Corps,” he looked at him with a frown. “Paying off the cops, bribing politicians, strong arm tactics, blackmail; do you think Stellmoor knows what she’s been up to down here? Maybe we should get in touch with their CEO for a face to face?”

“We could but I doubt they care,” Liz said with a shrug. “After all, they made her their VP of Acquisitions for a reason and I doubt it was for her bedside manner with the boss.” She looked at all of them, “She may have tried sleeping her way to the top back when she was a twenty-something year old intern but they don’t hand the boss’s office wife billions of dollars to screw with her ex’s company no matter how good her skills are in the bedroom. No, chances are they know _exactly_ what she’s doing here and they’ve given her free reign to do whatever it is she has to as long as they get their payday.” 

“Hate to say it but Liz is right,” Duncan agreed darkly. “Stellmoor operates in some pretty shady areas and rumor is that they have ties to organized crime so these kinds of tactics might be something out of their employee handbook. In any case, as long as she keeps making them money, they aren’t going to step in anytime soon.”

“What do you mean by organized crime?” Oliver asked with a hard look.

Walter answered for him, “After Stellmoor began buying up our stocks we researched their company. On the surface everything appeared above board but a friend of mine with the SEC told me that the FBI suspects that Stellmoor has ties with organizations like the Triad, the Yakuza, and the Bratva and that they launder money for them as well as for several independent mercenary groups. It’s nothing they can prove, mind you,” he said hurriedly, “Stellmoor is a foreign venture capital investment firm which means that, by law, they can only own American holdings for so many years before they’re required to divest. Since they don’t really own any of the businesses they acquire for long before selling them for scrap, and since their company is based in Russia, they haven’t really been able to gather much evidence. However, given Ms. Rochev’s behavior and tactics, I wouldn’t doubt that they were guilty of all that and more.”

“It’s one of the reasons the SEC has had us under a microscope ever since Stellmoor began making their move,” Michael added. “After the Undertaking, the last thing we need is to have either company associated with Stellmoor much less the new company after the merger goes through.”

“Do we have the money to buy out their twenty-five percent?” Oliver asked them.

“No,” Michael told him, “And certainly not at the price they’d want for them. Stellmoor has been spending top dollar for the shares they have so we’d have to offer them double the face value and that’s just to start.”

“The way Isabel is going after us you could offer her four times the value and she’d still turn us down,” Liz said wryly.

“Yes, but she doesn’t own the stock; Stellmoor does,” Doug reminded them. “Maybe her bosses would be open to selling back the shares if we can come up with a good enough offer?”

“First off, chances are the reason they sent that woman down here is so we’d bankrupt ourselves trying to get rid of her,” Duncan said pointedly. “Don’t fall for that trap. It’s one of the oldest tricks in the book; send a bull in to bust up the china shop then pick up whatever’s left. Second, it doesn’t matter if we buy those shares or not; she can’t launch a hostile takeover with twenty-five percent of the shares and she’s not bullying her way onto the board. Even if she forced her way on, now that Dennis and those other sheep are off the board, she’s lost all her allies. She’s done; it’s over.”

“Yeah, she’s not done,” Felicity said doubtfully. “That woman isn’t going to stop until she gets exactly what she’s after.” 

“Felicity’s right,” Tommy said grimly. “Isabel is basically Malcolm in a skirt; she’s not going away any time soon.”

Walter sighed, “We could try to get a loan or some investors but with your mother’s trial coming up, people are waiting to see what happens first before they put any money behind us.”

Tommy turned to Oliver, “I hate to say it but Walter is right; the money just isn’t there. I know you want to get rid of her, God knows I do, but we might have to do what Duncan said and wait her out, then handle whatever she throws at us when the time comes.” 

“I don’t like the idea of waiting to see what she comes up with next,” Oliver said shaking his head, “Especially since it’s pretty obvious that her goal isn’t just to take down this company but my entire family. What about a loan like Walter mentioned?”

“That’s a pretty big loan, Ollie,” Tommy said dubiously. “The bank would need us to put up some serious collateral to approve something like that and we just don’t have it. I broke my trust and used a lot of the money Malcolm left me, plus sold off some properties in order to buy up as many outstanding shares as I could, so I’m pretty much tapped out,” he admitted with a grimace. “As for you guys, while I went ahead and helped Thea ‘buy back’ a lot of your family’s assets from the company, I couldn’t afford all of them. I had to let the art collection stay where it was along with stuff like your vacation homes and the jet. I did, however, secure the house and the club. I didn’t want Stellmoor getting hold of it in case Isabel somehow bullied her way onto the board, but the tax liability for doing that cost us a chunk, too. Don’t get me wrong; we’re not broke but if this merger doesn’t go through chances are that Felicity and I will probably be riding your couch for a while.”

“What about the Queen Family Trust?” he asked, his brow furrowing at that. “There’s billions in there; now that I’m back can’t we pitch in and help?”

“You already have,” Walter told him. 

“That’s one of the reasons Isabel went so hard after Thea,” Felicity explained as Oliver shot them a questioning look. “After she turned eighteen she was able to speak for the trust since you and your mom were, well, _not available_ ,” she said awkwardly. “Anyway, she leveraged a lot of it in order to gain control of forty-five percent of the stock and Tommy threw in for the other thirty in order to keep out Stellmoor.”

“So how much do we have left?” Oliver asked with a frown.

“Not much,” Tommy admitted, “More than the average bear but not for a billionaire. I think I hit on this earlier but Robert was hanging by a thread even before the Gambit went down. Moira managed to regroup and build the trust back up but, until the company starts generating profits again, we aren’t exactly soluble.”

Oliver nodded slowly, “Okay, so how much do we have in terms of actual liquid assets?”

“On paper you’re still a billionaire but in liquid assets you’re down to around ten million,” Walter told him. Oliver winced at that and he added, “I warned Thea that it was a risky move and that Tommy’s buy up of the shares would keep the company out of Stellmoor’s reach but she insisted. She said you’d want to make sure that the Queen Family still held the majority in their own company as well as an equal stake with Tommy once the merger went through.”

“You should’ve listened to Walter,” he said looking to his sister. “Plus, now we’re in debt to Tommy.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Tommy denied immediately. “You gave me a job when Malcolm cut me off, remember? Consider us even.”

“Tommy, making you the manager of the club isn’t the same as spending billions to protect my family’s home and company. You broke the bank for us, so we’re paying you back,” Oliver insisted. “I don’t know how or when, but we’ll find a way.”

“I don’t give a crap about the money, Ollie,” he said easily. “To tell you the truth, I don’t really give a crap about any of this. The only reason I’m in this fight is to save people’s jobs and to help out your family. Besides, I’m not broke. I might’ve been poor-mouthing a bit but I still have more money than you guys right now; not much more, but enough, and the reason I made buying the club a priority is so Thea could run it and have a second source of income just in case.”

Oliver shifted uneasily at that before turning to his sister, “Still, forty-five percent isn’t a majority share. I just don’t see why you had to leverage everything, much less why you felt you had to buy into MG? Why not save that money and protect our assets with money from the trust instead of making it come out of Tommy’s pocket?”

“First off, I didn’t just spend money to spend money, Ollie,” Thea said wryly. “We talked about it—a lot—before I made this decision and, for what it’s worth, even mom agreed it was a good idea. Secondly, forty-five percent was the best we could do. Third, and you would know this if you weren’t off playing Tarzan, but when Stellmoor started gobbling up stock, they mainly concentrated on us since we were their primary target and Tommy already owned sixty-one percent so there is no way they could take over even if they bought every outstanding share they, meaning Isa-bitch, could get her grubby little hands on. The Merlyn Global buy up was just a warning to tell Tommy to back off so I was able to snatch it away without setting off a bidding war,” she shrugged. “I wound up buying sixteen percent of Merlyn Global and another four percent of QC and Tommy bought the rest.”

“Unlike with QC stock, once the sharks saw the blood in the water, Merlyn Global stock prices began to plummet,” Tommy explained. “However, with your company, Stellmoor started buying and so did we. This made everyone come out to get a piece of the action since Isabel was paying up to twenty-five percent above the NASDAQ for any QC Common Stock she could get her hands on. Once the stock prices started soaring, four percent is all Thea could afford so I bought QC stock while she bought up Merlyn Global.”

“It’s like Monopoly only with real money,” Thea said smartly. “We also agreed that we’d exchange the stocks as part of the merger agreement so that we’re equal partners in both companies. That means that, after we get approval to begin the merger, we’ll each own thirty-seven and a half percent of the new Queen Incorporated giving us three quarters ownership with Stellmoor having the remaining twenty-five percent,” Thea explained.

Oliver looked at them in confusion, “But isn’t that illegal; like…insider trading or something?”

“No,” Tommy said wryly. “Insider trading is the trading of a public company's stock by individuals with access to nonpublic information about the company because it’s seen as unfair to other investors who don’t have access to that information, as the investor with insider information could potentially make far larger profits that a typical investor couldn’t make--and we won’t be making a profit for a while. Not only that, but everything we’re doing is obvious and above board. Stellmoor is attempting a hostile takeover and we’re trying to stop them. Other investors are getting into a bidding war with them because they want to either reap the short term profits from a stock market surge, or they want to see if Stellmoor comes out on top then collect a payday when they strip the company of their assets and raid the pension fund which is their MO. The fact that Thea and I are working on a merger of the two companies doesn’t really affect any of that.” 

At the other man’s stunned expression, he chuckled, “Yeah, well, I’ve been studying up on this stuff,” he said sheepishly. “Felicity, Walter, and Michael gave me a crash course on Business 101 that included daily study sessions complete with PowerPoint demos. I have homework and everything and each of the department heads give me a lecture-slash-presentation once a week on the inner workings of the company.”

“Seriously?” Oliver asked dubiously.

Thea nodded for him, “Yeah, I even started sitting in on some of the meetings after I saw how stressed out Tommy would get; you know, to help him out,” she said with a smile. “It’s actually been kind of fun to tell you the truth. I used to hate school because it was so frickin’ boring but the way Felicity does stuff makes it all really interesting. She even brings snacks and makes a game out of it,” Thea turned to Felicity with a grin. “If you’d been a teacher at my old school I actually might’ve stuck it out longer.” 

“You’re just saying that because I bring you watermelon flavored Ring Pops and Smarties necklaces,” Felicity shot back.

“Uh, yeah!” Thea said roundly. “Edible accessories are the bomb! Anyway, the ‘guest lecturers’ have fun, too, and are encouraged to make their presentations as interactive as possible,” she said turning to Oliver once more. “It’s been great for company morale and I’ve learned some stuff that’s been helping me with the running of the club, so that’s a bonus.”

Tommy nodded, “Another bonus—besides swiping Thea’s Ring Pops because those things are delicious-- is that I’ve gotten to know a bunch of the employees and hear how they think and listen to their ideas on how we can improve things going in. Having that face to face time not only helped me but, like Thea said, it’s helped company morale. A lot of people who were thinking of leaving us because they were afraid for their job security changed their minds and decided to stick it out. We still lost a bunch of people, mostly the ones who were nearing retirement and who didn’t want to risk their pensions, but we started consolidating the companies and switching people back and forth to fill those positions rather than hire new people. To tell you the truth, at this point the merger is just academic since we’re basically one company now.” He made a dismissive gesture, “Anyway, like I was saying about the stock thing; this kind of deal is pretty common actually. And as to you guys ‘owing’ me anything; you don’t.”

“We do,” Oliver insisted. “I may not have gotten an MBA while I was away, but I can understand basic math and, even after we exchange the shares, we’ll still owe you for the house and the club, plus another ten percent of the shares.” 

“Okay, you’re right--technically,” he admitted. “Thea bought twenty percent and I bought thirty, but once this deal goes through, even though we’re ‘splitting’ the company, _I’ll_ be the majority stockholder since I get sole control over my half while you and Thea will split the stocks between the two of you. However, on the off chance the judge rules Thea isn’t covered by the terms of the Queen Trust, then you’ll technically hold the majority with the two of us splitting my half, and since Thea will be a ‘Merlyn’ at that point and the money I used is from the Merlyn Trust...” he shrugged, “When it comes down to it, it doesn’t matter whose money is whose as long as we stick together and agree not to screw each other over. After all, we’ll still have three quarters of the company. Once we get this merger done, get some profits rolling in, and get Stellmoor off our backs, then we can talk about who owes who what but, as far as I’m concerned, we’re family so there is no debt,” he said easily. “Robert and Moira basically raised me, I lived in your house—actually still do,” he said drolly, “Thea’s just as much my sister as she is yours, so you don’t owe me a damn thing and, if you ever want the CEO job; it’s yours. I’ll be happy just going back to running the club with Thea or finishing up medical school since she’s pretty much said I’m not even allowed to hang out there anymore.”

“Yeah, stay out of my club, Tommy,” Thea said seriously. “Every time I let you in you start moving things around on my desk and messing with the inventory.”

He cut his eyes at Oliver with a disgruntled look, “See what I mean? In any case, Isabel targeted Thea’s biological whatever in order to prevent us from making the merger happen. Now, while what Thea and I are doing isn’t considered insider trading, the specific terms of our stock exchange was supposed to be top secret until we were ready to present the terms of our merger to the SEC,” Tommy added turning his attention to Michael and Walter. “Had Isabel gotten her way and had Thea disqualified by the board then that would’ve given them seventy percent but then Felicity had your proxy preventing that. That’s when she came up with this other crap about us hiding your body and stealing the company. I also find it interesting that both Isabel and the board had someone within the department, three guesses who; alert them in advance of when it was they were planning on arresting us.” 

“And Dennis was able to call a board meeting to coincide with that so that means he had to have been planning this coup for a minimum of three days,” Walter added.

Oliver frowned at that, “Why three days?”

“Because the SEC requires you to post notice of a board vote three days ahead of time,” Felicity told him. 

“Which puts it a full day before I left to get Ollie,” Tommy nodded. 

“That sounds about right,” Doug nodded. “When I got the notice I assumed it was about the merger. I had no idea it was going to turn into some kind of coup.”

“Me neither, but I caught on after I noticed that Dennis was looking like the cat who ate the canary and Walter and Michael were nowhere to be found,” Elizabeth said wryly. 

“That’s when I sensed something was off as well,” Duncan agreed. “I’ve never known either of you to ever be late to a meeting before,” he said to the two men in question. “My suspicions were confirmed when Felicity showed up confused as to what was going on and the policemen and Ms. Rochev stepped out of the boardroom in that melodramatic fashion of hers,” he said sarcastically. 

“I don’t understand how she thought she’d get away with it, though,” Doug said in confusion. “Keeping Walter and Michael in the dark along with our major stockholders, meaning Tommy and Felicity with Oliver’s proxy, would have made the voting illegal since they didn’t send them a notice.”

“I’m sure that an internal memo or email would’ve miraculously shown up after the fact to prove to the SEC that we did know about the meeting after all,” Felicity said with a grimace. 

“And, besides, once we were arrested and she had us removed from the board, she could’ve stolen the company out from under us and it would’ve taken years for us to sort it out in court,” Tommy told him. “Even if we did get our stocks back eventually, by then they’d be worthless and we would’ve lost everything.”

“If Dennis or anyone else gave her that information, which I believe it’s obvious that they did,” Michael said, looking to Walter, “that could mean criminal conspiracy, and the FBI would have grounds to launch an investigation.”

“And, as Tommy pointed out, Dennis telling Isabel about the terms of the merger, especially in regards to the stock exchange between himself and the Queens, violates more SEC regulations than I can count,” Duncan chimed in. “It’s a double-edged sword though; if we go after them for that then the SEC may put a hold on the merger while they investigate and that could hold us up for years. In the meantime, both companies’ stocks would continue to fall and we’d have no choice but to sell them off to the highest bidder which, in all likelihood, would be Stellmoor. Either way, they win.”

“We’ll talk to legal; weigh our options,” Walter said after a moment. “I don’t like the idea of allowing Isabel and the others get away with this but we may have to let it go for the greater good. In the meantime, we need to make sure we have hard evidence in case we do decide to go forward with pressing criminal charges against them later on.”

“I’ll go through all of their hard drives and company emails to see what I can find,” Felicity told them. “If we’re lucky and they were dumb enough to send her a memo or email using company servers, we’ll have them dead to rights.”

“Let’s all have a seat in the conference room, get this mess with rebuilding the board settled, then go over what we’re going to do,” Walter told them. “Felicity, can you go ahead and have IT go through Mr. Dennis’s computer and emails in the meantime?”

“Already on it,” she said taking out her cellphone as they filed into the conference room.

“Who knew big business was this exciting, huh?” Dig said in a low voice as he turned to Oliver.

He gave the other man a wry look, “This stuff makes what the vigilante does look easy. After hearing you guys talk about criminal conspiracies and SEC regulations, I’m tempted to run back to the lair and hood up.”

“Well, there have been a few meetings where I’ve been tempted to put an arrow through a couple of people but I think you can leave off the hood for now,” Tommy grinned at that and clapped his friend on the shoulder, “Come on, man, Felicity always keeps bagels on hand and I happen to know where she hides her stash of Swedish Fish and Jolly Ranchers.”

“Sour Apple?” Oliver asked with a playful look.

“Of course,” Tommy scoffed, “Like I’d ever show up to a board meeting unless there were Sour Apple Jolly Ranchers! Are you kidding me? Now let’s go be businessmen together!”

Diggle followed behind them shaking his head, “No wonder our economy is so fucked up, swear to God.”


	5. Sometimes You Don't Need A Hero, You Just Need A Friend

SEVEN MONTHS LATER…

“You sure you want to come with me?” Ollie asked him for the umpteenth time as they parked the car in front of the two story farm style house in the picturesque neighborhood. “It’s probably going to be…” he grimaced, “a rough confrontation.” He looked at the house nervously again but made no move to get out of the car, “Felicity was right; we should’ve called first.” He looked at him again, “Seriously, man, if you don’t want to be here you can head back to the hotel and I can call a cab later because this might take a while.”

“I’m positive,” Tommy told him. “Now stop asking already. You ready to go meet your kid now?”

Oliver took a shaky breath and looked over at the house again, “In a minute, I just…need another minute to, I don’t know, get my head on straight first.”

“That’s okay, take all the time you need,” he assured him as he shifted his arm in its sling. “How’s your knee?”

“Still hurts like a bitch,” Oliver said bluntly. “How’s your shoulder?”

“Same,” he said with a grimace. “It was doing better but then Felicity and I got a little carried away with some pre-honeymoon activities and I think I might’ve pulled a muscle. I should’ve just done like she suggested and let her do all the work.”

The other man gave him a disgruntled look, “Please stop telling me about you and Felicity’s sex life. That’s the last thing I want to think about right now.”

“Yeah, well, you asked. Besides, you have no room to complain ever since Felicity and I walked in on you and Sara going at it on the mats in the foundry.“ 

Oliver held a hand up to stop him, “I apologized for that— _multiple times_ , so just…let it go already,” he grumbled.

“You could apologize a million times and it’s never going to erase that image from my brain,” Tommy returned. “That shit messed me up for days and Felicity nearly had a stroke when she realized she’d have to look Sara in the eye eventually. Speaking of Sara, I’m surprised she decided to brave Bridezilla Armageddon with the girls instead of coming with us.”

“I asked her but she said it wouldn’t be appropriate. Something about not wanting to overstep with Samantha or something,” he said letting out a harsh breath. “Plus, I think she’s a little weirded out by the fact that I have a kid and the wedding, then there’s me asking her if she wants to get a place together,” he shrugged. 

Tommy offered him a sympathetic look, “What did she say when you asked her?”

“She said we weren’t there yet, and she was right,” he admitted. “I told her I wasn’t trying to pressure her, that I just figured that if we shared a place that it would get her out of her dad’s apartment and make things easier for her. She thanked me, said she got that, but she felt that it would still be pushing us towards something she wasn’t ready for.”

“Are you ready for that sort of relationship?” he asked curiously.

“I don’t know,” Oliver admitted, “Probably not but I see what you and Felicity have and what Dig and Lyla have, and I—I want that eventually. Sara’s right though; right now I need to concentrate on building a relationship with William first.” He caught the grin on Tommy’s face and frowned, “What?”

“Nothing, it’s just…” he shook his head, “Who would’ve thought that this is where we’d wind up, huh? We’re like real adults now: You’re mayor of Starling City and somebody’s dad and I’m the CEO of a multi-billion dollar company and getting married in less than two weeks to the woman of my dreams. Of course, I only have one arm and you only have the one leg but, put us together and we’re practically the perfect guy.”

Oliver chuckled ruefully at that, “Speaking of which, we probably should’ve gotten the town car like you suggested but I wanted to keep a low profile. Not that a Corvette is exactly low profile.”

“It’s still a domestic,” he said dismissively. “I was going to get a Porsche but I figured we’d need the leg room. Speaking of; if your knee is bothering you, I can drive on the way back to the hotel. My shoulder’s sore but I can still steer and I made sure to get an auto so we wouldn’t have to worry about shifting gears. That or I could call them to send a car and an extra driver to take this one back to the rental company?”

“Naw, we’ve got it,” the other man said shaking his head before glancing at his crutches lying in the back seat. “I probably should’ve waited until my leg was healed up before coming out here though.” His eyes suffused with apprehension, “Maybe we shouldn’t do this today after all. I don’t want to scare William.”

“Scare William? With what; crutches and a knee brace?” Tommy snorted. “It’s not like we’re limping up to the house with missing limbs and bloody stumps, Ollie!”

“Yeah, but just a few days ago we left Isabel and Slade in an ARGUS supermax,” he said looking back towards the house. “I just don’t know if I should be dragging my son into all this right now. Maybe we should wait?” 

It was a nice house; gorgeous with a few large oak trees in the yard and tucked away from prying eyes despite the fact that it was a bustling neighborhood. 

It definitely cost a pretty penny, that’s for sure, Tommy thought as he also noted the brand new SUV in the driveway. He’d done his research on Samantha Clayton—or rather Felicity did. She owned an art gallery and was a relatively successful artist herself specializing in thrown pottery. She showed him some examples of Samantha’s work and, while they were nice looking clay pots and vases, he didn’t really think of them as ‘art’ per se; they just looked like fancy mixing bowls and planters to him, but a lot of people seemed to like them. In fact, they were willing to play an almost obscene amount of money for the things. Her pieces sold for anywhere from $300 to upwards of $6000 or more apiece.

Besides her own work, her gallery primarily handled local artists and sculptors but she had attained a certain amount of local prestige which was saying something since Central City was a favorite vacation spot for the Hollywood crowd. She’d even been written up in the paper’s Arts and Leisure section twice; once for her gallery and once for her own work.

Still, relatively speaking, she was just starting out. Her gallery was only a few years old so she wasn’t making the kind of money she’d need to be able to afford live in a gated neighborhood, not one as upscale as this one anyway. No, she purchased the house in part with the money Moira gave her then placed the rest in a college fund for her son. The rest of it came from her parents. 

According to Felicity’s research, Samantha’s parents died in a car accident while she was in college shortly before she became pregnant with William. They weren’t wealthy people by any means, but they left her a couple of insurance policies and she sold their home in Arizona then used that money to pay off her college loans, buy the house, and start her own business.

 _“That explains why she didn’t terminate the pregnancy,”_ Felicity told him after she’d done a background check on Samantha. _“Other than a great-aunt who lives in a nursing home in Arizona and some distant cousins in Florida, William is her only family.”_

Despite himself, Tommy felt the resentment he’d held towards Samantha ease off a bit after that. It was still there, but he knew what it was like to be all alone in the world and he couldn’t really fault her for taking the money anymore. After all, it’s not like she went out and bought a sports car and a new wardrobe; she provided for her child just as she would’ve if it had been child support and not a bribe to skip town and take her kid with her. Other than using it to pay for half of the house (the other half coming from the money she inherited from her parents) she never touched that money again; all of it went into William’s account.

Again, that wasn’t to say he was completely okay with what went down. He would never be okay with the fact that she lied to Oliver and kept his son from him, but he knew she wasn’t the mercenary Thea assumed she was in the beginning. No, Ollie was right; Samantha Clayton was a hardworking and determined young mother who only wanted to do right by her son. That eased the sting a bit, but it still itched, especially as he sat in the car watching Ollie go into full-guilt mode and caught sight of the kid’s bike leaning against the porch along with the chaotic evidence of childhood scattered haphazardly around the yard.

He turned away for a moment, his mind wandering back to the conversation he’d had with Felicity the night before.

***

“I think I took half of Lian Yu back home with us,” he grumbled as he shook out his duffle bag with his one good arm, his shoulder still twinging a bit from being jostled before he gave up and tossed it in the closet with a sigh. “Screw it, mind if I borrow yours instead?” 

“Go ahead, it’s a community property state remember? What’s mine is yours,” Felicity said absently as she scrolled through her tablet. 

“That must be why you’re constantly stealing my clothes,” he said flicking his eyes over her ‘pajamas’ which consisted of a pair of his boxer briefs and a white undershirt that practically swallowed her whole.

“It’s not like you were wearing them Mr. ‘I like to hang free at night’,” she said wryly.

“Like you don’t like having all this easy accessibility right at your fingertips,” he said wriggling his hips under his towel and looking down at his bare chest and well-defined abs. Admittedly, he was more than a little worse for wear after the past few days but he still looked good thanks to the daily ass kicking Dig gave him disguised as ‘training’. “Besides, if I was then my underwear would be pretty crowded right about now. Although they usually are,” he smirked as he dropped her much less sandy duffle bag onto the end of the bed before turning to the dresser to pull out a couple of days-worth of clothes, “You are one lucky lady because this wizard has a mighty impressive wand if I do say so myself.”

He and Ollie weren’t planning on staying long—at least he wasn’t. Officially they were going down there to meet with an orthopedic surgeon for Ollie’s knee. The doctor they’d spoken to had given them a list of surgeons who specialized in using lasers and endoscopic surgery to do joint repairs since Oliver wasn’t interested in being laid up for months before starting PT. The guy Ollie’s doctor recommended in Central City worked with professional athletes and he promised he could get him on his feet quickly, but there were other surgeons who were just as good closer to home. The real reason they picked him was because it gave them an excuse to see William while traveling under the radar.

The last seven months had been chaotic for Team Arrow to say the least, both in their night time jobs, and during the day as well. In fact, after they figured out that Isabel was working with an old enemy of Oliver’s by the name of Slade Wilson, the lines had begun to blur to the point where there were no lines at all.

“Give me a minute to finish packing and I’ll be happy to wave my wand for you, baby,” Tommy teased with a toothy grin as he took out some undershirts and plopped them into the open bag.

Felicity looked up from her tablet, “Don’t do the helicopter thing,” she warned him.

“You know you like the helicopter thing,” he said snaking his hips and bopping to an imaginary beat as he ran his one good hand down his chest to play with his towel.

“No, I don’t. I really don’t,” she said shaking her head. 

“Aw, c’mon now!” he teased, biting his bottom lip and circling his hips like he was white guy dancing.

“Tommy, I love you, but watching you flop your penis around in circles while making helicopter sounds is the least sexiest thing ever,” she said in a deadpan.

“Liar,” he said dropping his towel with a flourish and wiggling his hips.

“No! Stop!” she squealed hiding her face in the pillow, “Oh God! I hate that! Stop!”

He began to beatbox a dubstep beat as he turned to wiggle his bare ass at her then laughed when a pillow hit him between the shoulder blades.

He bent to pick it up, making sure to keep his wiggle up then turned and tossed it back, “You’re supposed to throw dollar bills, hon; not pillows,” he told her before flapping his propeller, “Make it rain, baby! Make it rain!”

“Ooh you’re sick! You’re a sick, sick man!” she cried hiding her face in her hands as she began to snicker uncontrollably.

“And I’m all yours, baby!” he said wiggling his eyebrows at her.

At that moment there was a heavy thump against the wall as Thea yelled out, “Play your sick sex games when I’m not in the next room! Some of us are trying to sleep!”

“You have no room to talk!” Tommy shouted back at the wall. “And remind Roy that I said he could stay as long as he needed to as long as he slept on the couch downstairs, not in your bed!”

“Oh shit, I told you he could hear us,” he heard Roy hiss through the walls.

“That’s it! If you’re going to be all perverted in there then I’m turning on my white noise machine!” Thea shouted back.

“Good!” he scowled as the faint sounds of rushing water and crashing waves reached them. “Sleep well! Enjoy your pee dreams!”

Yeah, there was a reason Benjamin Franklin once said, ‘Guests, like fish, begin to smell after three days.’

“I hate that white noise machine. Why are all the sounds trickling water and rain anyway?” Tommy muttered as he scowled at the wall, “She has really got to get her own place.”

“That or we need to get a bigger place with soundproofed walls,” Felicity said still snickering. “You’re just lucky Sara and Oliver haven’t come home yet.”

Isabel, as a special ‘fuck you’ to Moira and the Queen family, blew up the mansion leaving a burnt out crater where the house once stood and forcing Ollie and Thea to move into the loft with him and Felicity. It was okay though other than the damn pee dreams thanks to Thea’s white noise machine that had him getting up and down all night long like he was an eighty year old man with a prostate the size of a bagel. 

Still, as much as he loved having his family around him, the loft was definitely not the mansion and things were more than a little crowded. The apartment, which once seemed almost too big for just him and Felicity, was now filled to capacity with Thea in the room closest to theirs, Ollie in the secondary master suite downstairs that used to be Thea’s but was now his and Sara’s due to his leg, and Donna in the guest room…when she wasn’t playing musical beds with Walter and Detective Lance.

Yeah, that was a new one. They knew about her thing with Walter from the Vegas trip but a couple of days ago, after they returned from Lian Yu, they’d stumbled downstairs to the scent of breakfast cooking, fully expecting to see either Raisa or Oliver at the stove only to find a less than dressed Lance and Donna christening their countertops.

Tommy didn’t know who screamed louder at that one; him or Felicity. Needless to say, Donna decided to come up early after hearing the news of the attack on Starling. After she arrived, Raisa told her that they were all out of town on business so Donna, unbeknownst to them, decided to make herself at home and coincidentally ran into Detective Lance in the restaurant across the street.

They apparently hit it off and he and Felicity spent the next morning scrubbing the counters down with bleach. 

Oh well, as soon as the mayor’s mansion was repaired, Oliver would be moving into it—hopefully, and Thea would be getting her own place soon enough.

Again, hopefully. If not then they really were buying a bigger place and the soundproofed walls were a definite thing that had to happen. 

For all their sakes.

“Why’s that?” he asked turning back to the dresser to finish packing since his sister ruined his fun by being her usual self.

Felicity picked up her tablet again, her cheeks still a bright pink from laughing, “Because they both have that freaky ninja hearing and Oliver would never let you live it down.”

“Who do you think taught me the penis propeller thing in the first place?” Tommy shot back.

She looked up at him, her eyebrows drawing together incredulously, “Seriously?”

“We were eight,” he said dismissively. “Penises to little boys are basically built in forms of entertainment that we can flop around and use as squirt guns.”

She wrinkled her nose at that, “Not—not against each other though, right? Like you wouldn’t _pee_ on each other?” 

“What’s the point of having a built-in squirt gun if you don’t fire it at someone?” he scoffed. “Besides, we’d just watched Ghostbusters and we’d been drinking a lot of coke so we decided to try the thing where we crossed the streams.” He frowned, “Yeah, that was…messy. Raisa was pissed--literally since she’s the one who had to clean up the bathroom afterwards.”

“We are never having boys,” Felicity said with a shudder before looking back down at her tablet.

Tommy just grinned at her and continued to pack. 

While the last several months had been something of a nightmare, there were some good things to happen to them as well. Sara came back, which was a welcome surprise—for a while anyway until the League of Assassins and Sara’s ex-girlfriend showed up as well.

While Sara had a few ‘issues’ she was working through in connection to her past, her return from the dead did wonders for Detective Lance and his ex-wife, as well as for Oliver. While nothing could ever fully erase the grief they felt at the loss of their elder daughter, having Sara back helped. Sara, of course, was crushed that she would never be able to make amends with her sister, but it inspired her to return to Starling to help Oliver with his mission.

Sara and Ollie were a couple now. It was a rough beginning; all passion and screaming, but things evened out a bit after she settled back in. She and Felicity became fast friends, which was good since, as Thea liked to say, Team Arrow was way too much of a sausage-fest for far too long and they were in desperate need of some girl power. 

While he had his doubts that Sara and Ollie would last as a couple as they were too much alike in a lot of ways, for now their relationship was working. Oliver was helping Sara to overcome her darkness and Sara was helping Oliver by giving him something to focus on besides his guilt over Laurel. It was still there, of course, but less so than it was. 

Roy was now a full-fledged member of the team and trained daily with them. Tommy’s training was coming along nicely as well, although he doubted he’d ever be tempted to don his dad’s old League armor and hit the streets full-time. No, he was no hero and his skills were better suited behind the scenes, both as Queen Inc.’s CEO so he could help fund the mission and as Team Arrow’s official ‘doctor’.

Even without a medical degree, he had more formal medical training under his belt than Dig did even with his background as an army medic. After rebuilding his mom’s clinic in the Glades, Tommy made sure to ‘over-order’ a few things and they set up their own mini-hospital in the lair—and, unfortunately, they’d had to use their mini-clinic a lot these last several months. 

Aside from the unofficial medical internship he’d embarked on, another good thing that happened was that Moira was found not guilty of all five hundred and three counts of murder and conspiracy. She still wound up going to prison though as she was found guilty of interference in a police investigation and perjury in connection to Walter’s kidnapping since she lied to the police. It was bullshit really but the jury felt that, even though she wasn’t guilty of bringing down the Glades, she needed to take some kind of responsibility for her actions so she was sentenced to five years in a Women’s Minimum Security Prison and would be eligible for parole in eighteen months. At first, both Oliver and Thea were devastated by the news that their mother was going to prison but it turned out to be a good thing because it meant she wasn’t there when Isabel and Slade launched their plan to take down Oliver and everyone he loved, and it was fair; more than fair actually considering they originally wanted her to get the death penalty or, as the very least, life in prison.

As for the company, after they finally took down Isabel and Slade, Felicity did some cyber voodoo and transferred all of the shares they owned in the company back to them giving them one hundred percent ownership of Queen Inc. They were now a privately traded company and were in discussions on whether to take it public again in the future but, for now, they wanted to concentrate on building the company up and helping the city recover from the second disaster to hit Starling in less than two years. Felicity also raided all of Isabel and Slade’s off-shore accounts and donated every bit of it to various foundations around the city to help clean up the mess they made.

The biggest thing to happen to them though, other than Sara’s return from the ‘dead’, was the fact that Ollie was now the mayor of Starling. With Blood dead, the board of aldermen approached Oliver about taking on the job since he had the majority of the votes before having to drop out of the race after Slade and Isabel kidnapped Thea. 

How he and Oliver went from two screw ups who spent their teens and twenties fucking off and getting high to becoming a CEO and the mayor/vigilante of Starling City…?

Talk about a mindfuck.

“You know, if you want to start working on that houseful of little _girls_ we’re going to be having since little boys are out of the picture, I can hold off packing until tomorrow?” he said friskily.

“Yeah, keep it up and you’ll be rubbing your own wand tonight, Mr. Wizard,” Felicity said bringing him back to the present.

“Keeping it up is the point, baby,” he shot back. “Besides, you know as well as I do that my wand requires _two_ hands and all I have is the one at the moment, and we both know I have you under my ‘spell’,” he said with a comical leer before tossing a few pairs of underwear in the bag. 

She snorted at that. “You wish!”

“I really do,” he said ruefully. “After all, I need something to keep my spirits up if I’m going to have to spend the next two days dragging Ollie around Central City.”

“Why does it bother you so much?” she asked him.

He offered her a confused look, “What? Packing, Thea’s anti-sex pee machine, or the fact that my fiancée won’t send me off with a smile?” he asked her tossing in some socks and a couple of t-shirts.

“The trip down to Central City with Oliver so he can meet with Samantha and William,” she said, not falling for it. “And before you try telling me you aren’t worried about it, I know you well enough to be able to tell when you’re trying to fake it.” 

“I’m not worried,” Tommy said with a sigh as he opened up the drawer and tossed in a couple of pairs of lounge pants.

“No, you’re not,” she agreed. “You’re pissed.”

“I’m not pissed at Ollie,” he denied.

“Not Oliver; Samantha,” Felicity said pointedly. “I mean, I get that you want to support Oliver and you wish you could’ve known William sooner, but he isn’t even half as angry about this as you are and it’s his son. What’s really bothering you, Tommy?”

He grimaced, “I don’t know, it’s just…I don’t know.” He put aside the bag to sit next to her on the bed then reached up to stroke his fingers gently down the side of her temple, examining the still healing contusion there carefully. 

You could barely see it when she covered it up during the day, but with her face freshly scrubbed and free of make-up, it was still pretty obvious.

It scared the hell out of him when he and Dig pulled her limp body from the van the night Slade’s Blood Army descended on the city. Aside from a mild concussion and a few bumps and bruises, she was okay though. In fact, all of them were okay, even Ollie, which was a miracle considering. All of them had escaped the siege with relatively minor injuries, Sara and Oliver taking the worst of it; her with a fractured wrist and him with a fractured kneecap and some torn ligaments. 

Tommy wound up with a dislocated shoulder that hurt like hell and a slash on his back that would leave a nice scar he would have to cover up with another tattoo after it healed, but it was better than having Slade stab him through the heart or worse, stabbing Felicity who was the person he was actually aiming for. 

The original plan had been for Tommy to stick Slade with the cure but those plans fell through when one of the Mirakuru soldiers grabbed him a little too roughly and wrenched his arm from its socket. He was convinced that it was the end; that he was going to die, when Felicity came out of nowhere. 

One minute Slade had his sword pressed against his throat as he and Oliver screamed back and forth about the woman they’d both loved back on the island named Shado, and the next he was letting Tommy go and grabbing at the needle sticking out of his carotid. Apparently Felicity snuck up behind them while Ollie kept him distracted then somehow managed to stab him in the throat with the cure. When he wheeled around to see who it was who stabbed him, Tommy jumped between his sword and Felicity to knock her to the ground while Ollie began whaling on the son of a bitch but not before the business end of Slade’s katana left a twelve inch gash between his shoulder blades. 

Luckily Ollie was able to jerk Slade back just in time but it was still a close call. It wasn’t too bad, all things considered; it just burned like hell and bled a bit, but not nearly as much as the crease Isabel left in his arm when she shot him. Felicity managed to keep it together though…at least until they limped back to his mom’s clinic to get patched up. After she helped him take off his shirt so Dig could snap his arm back in place and stitch him up, that’s when she burst into tears and began apologizing profusely.

***

“I’m so sorry!” she kept saying over and over again. “When I snuck up behind him with the cure, I didn’t know he’d—“

“Baby, stop; it’s okay, or it will be as soon as that shot of morphine Dig gave me kicks in,” he’d said with a pained laugh as he rubbed his aching shoulder, his own eyes watering rather profusely. 

Again, that shit hurt like a motherfucker. How Ollie did shit like that on a daily basis was beyond him.

Wanting to reassure her, he swallowed back the urge to either beg someone to knock him the fuck out or bawl like a baby, and breathed in and out slowly before speaking again, “You saved my life and a couple of stitches—“

“Twenty-five stitches and a dislocated shoulder,” she said with a wince. 

“Which is still better than having my head cut off any day,” he finished. “I’m just glad you’re okay,” he’d said using his good hand to gently turn her head so he could examine the rapidly forming bruise on her temple and cheek, “You are okay, right?”

She smiled at him, “My head hurts like you wouldn’t believe, but I’m fine,” she assured him.

“As soon as I’m finished up with Merlyn, I’ll check out that cut on your head and give you something for your headache,” Dig told her. 

“I’ll be fine,” she said again.

“Head wounds are tricky, honey,” Tommy objected then turned his head towards Dig. “We really need to take her to the hospital for a CT.”

“I don’t need a CT!” she insisted. “I’m fine.”

“We’ll keep a close eye on her tonight,” Dig told him as he began to clean up his back. “Besides, even if we went we’d be stuck there for hours.” 

“Fine, but first chance I get I’m buying a CT and an MRI for the clinic, and doing the same for the lair,” he grumbled.

“Whatever you say, Doc MidNite,” Dig said wryly as he helped him put his arm through a sling.

‘Doc MidNite’ was Roy’s name for him. After a bad night when everyone had come back a little worse for wear, Tommy joked that they should rename the lair ‘Doc Merlyn’s Midnight Clinic’. Roy, in response, ‘acquired’ a neon sign a few days later that said ‘MIDNITE’ (he suspected it was from his ex-landlord’s convenience store), hung it over their medbay, and started calling him ‘Doc MidNite’. Oliver, for whatever reason, decided to refer to him over the coms as ‘Doctor MidNite’ after that making it his ‘official’ handle.

“You joke but with as many injuries as Team Arrow takes on, you guys need a full time doctor,” Tommy shot back. As he hopped off the table he looked around the bustling clinic. The nurses and doctors he’d hired had all braved the streets to open the clinic up to help with the overflow from the hospital. They’d offered to help them as well after they limped inside but Dig, seeing how busy they were, told them he could handle it. No one objected since they were used to seeing him with Tommy whenever he came down there and he’d made sure the staff was aware of the fact that Dig was a combat medic and licensed EMT so they basically let him have free reign. 

If his arm wasn’t practically useless at the moment, Tommy would be tempted to hop off the table to help stitch up minor wounds and wrap bandages as well, but he knew he’d just be in the way. Besides, he wasn’t a doctor, not yet anyway, but if that experience showed him anything it was that he definitely wanted to go back to medical school when everything settled down.

***

Of course, ‘settling down’ wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. 

It didn’t seem fair, he thought. When the good guys beat the bad guys, the screen was supposed to fade to black and they were supposed to live happily ever after. While he didn’t expect the world to turn into a flower filled paradise where gummy bears grew on trees and Skittles rained down from the sky, a vacation to somewhere besides Lian Yu would’ve been nice. However, just because they saved the day, the clocks didn’t stop and Monday still happened. Life continued on, the sun rose and set in the real world, and work still had to be done. As such, even though all he wanted to do was sleep off his jet lag and pop some painkillers, the day after they returned from Lian Yu he was sitting at his desk, his arm in a sling and his back sore as hell as he went over spreadsheets and did his best to catch up on all the paperwork that had piled up while he and the rest of the team saved their own little corner of the world.

He had plans for his happily ever after though, starting with the honeymoon. They decided against a huge wedding and were planning on a small interfaith ceremony that would be taking place a week from Saturday at the newly refurbished club that, surprisingly enough, survived the siege intact. Originally they wanted to have the wedding at the manor on the anniversary of the day they met which was May 15th, but Thea pointed out that throwing a wedding at the home of the woman accused of masterminding the Undertaking on the anniversary of the Undertaking was probably a bad idea. Donna chimed in with the fact that most weddings take place on a Saturday and May 15th fell on a Thursday that year, so they finally settled on May 31st at the country club and reserved a banquet hall for the reception instead. It was a good thing, too, since all hell broke loose the week before thanks to Slade and Isabel. Even so, most of their original plans had to be scrapped thanks to the fact that the city was still reeling from the Blood Army attack and Amanda Waller nearly taking them out with a Reaper, but they’d make do. 

Thea and Donna nearly freaked out when they told them they were still planning on keeping the date as planned even though they no longer had a cake, a florist, a venue, or an officiant since the Clarendon Hills Country Club was closed following the siege and the rabbi they planned on using was in the hospital with a broken leg thanks to a Mirakuru fueled Neo-Nazi ex-con who decided to vent his rage on Temple Beth Israel. Luckily both he and the temple were okay for the most part and Felicity made sure to ‘donate’ some funds to pay for both the repairs to the building and Rabbi Donenfeld’s hospital bills. 

It still left them high and dry though so Thea wanted them to change it to sometime in June instead that way they’d have time to make alternate arrangements. However, they said no; the wedding date stands. If they couldn’t have it on the day they wanted it, then they would at least have it in the same month and he wasn’t waiting another year to marry his girl. 

The past year had been a series of heart stopping highs and lows for them, bringing home the fact that time was too precious to waste. In one short year (or long year depending on how he felt that day and who was guest starring as Team Arrow’s bad guy of the week), he lost a woman he once loved, found the woman he would love for the rest of his life, officially joined a real life team of superheroes, gained a sister, found his brother again, made friends and expanded his family in ways he never imagined.

No, he wasn’t waiting even one more day to marry Felicity and that was final. Slade and Isabel had taken too much from them as it was; they weren’t taking away their wedding day as well.

Luckily, the bride in question agreed and, while he and Felicity would’ve been fine with a justice of the peace and a box of Little Debbie’s cupcakes, Donna and Thea both took up the challenge of creating the perfect wedding in less than two weeks. Between wedding prep, work, and everything else they’d both been stressed out and run ragged but it would all be worth it when he finally got to marry his girl then he was taking her on that happily ever after vacation/honeymoon where all they’d do is eat, sleep, and make love without any talk of boardrooms or Blood Armies for at least two weeks. 

He’d love to turn that two weeks into six months but the company wasn’t quite stable enough yet. As soon as it was though, he was hanging up his CEO power suit for a set of scrubs and handing over the reins to Felicity.

Originally the idea was to make Walter the company’s CEO but Walter and Michael both suggested Felicity do it instead. Queen Inc. was a family company so it would be best to put Felicity in charge and she was more than qualified. Walter and Michael both wanted to retire in a few years and having a young CEO like Felicity at the helm would offer more stability in the long run.

Besides, she could run circles around all of them and everybody knew it, especially Tommy.

Tommy tucked a stray curl behind his fiancée’s ear and kissed her gently before speaking, “The reason I’m so upset about all this is because…” he sighed, “it could’ve been me,” he said at last.

“What could’ve been you?” she asked in confusion.

“William; I could’ve been his father,” he admitted reluctantly.

Felicity looked at him in surprise, “Did you…did you sleep with--?”

“No!” he said quickly.

“So there’s no chance her son is yours?” she asked him carefully, “Because if he’s your son, Tommy, or even if there’s just the possibility that he could be, I won’t be mad. I would never be mad because of that but I need you to be honest with me.”

“He’s not my son,” he assured her once more. “However, the night she and Ollie hooked up, Samantha kissed me. She was completely wasted and, if Ollie hadn’t been there, I might’ve gone to bed with her. I was tempted but I knew he had a thing for her so I basically passed her off. I know that sounds bad,” he said contritely, “but I was a twenty year old kid who was overwhelmed with school and stress looking to blow off steam. Now I know that Samantha probably got drunk that night as a way to numb the pain of losing both her parents but when she fell into my lap at that party and started kissing me…” he grimaced, “A couple of more shots and that kid could’ve been mine.”

“So what’s bothering you; that William could’ve been yours or that he isn’t?” she asked quietly.

“I don’t know,” he said shaking his head slightly. “To be honest, I’m glad he isn’t mine because I hate to think what would’ve happened if Malcolm found out. Moira threatened Samantha and gave her a check for a million bucks; can you imagine what Malcolm would’ve done?”

Felicity bit her lip uncertainly, “You think he would’ve hurt Samantha?”

“Maybe,” he admitted with a grimace, “Or maybe he would’ve insisted I marry her, do the ‘right thing’, then basically try to mold William into his image the way he never could with me. I don’t know,” he said letting out a harsh breath. “I don’t know what might’ve happened but just knowing that Samantha kept Oliver’s son from him bothers the shit out of me because it could’ve been me. I could’ve had a son I never knew existed, you know?” 

“But you don’t,” she said in a way that was half question, half statement.

“I don’t,” he assured her. “At least, I’m pretty sure I don’t. One good thing about being a med student was that I was very aware of what could happen if you had unprotected sex and babies were the least of it. Until you, I always covered up and went for blood draws every six months like clockwork.”

She smiled at that, “So what’s got you in a mood? Is it just that you’re worried about Oliver, or what might have been…?”

He thought about it for a minute before taking a breath, “You know what’s really bothering me?” he asked looking at her, “When Ollie showed up at my place after she told him about the baby, he confessed that the first thing that popped into his head was that he wished it had been my kid instead.”

She frowned in confusion, “And you’re mad at him for that? Because that’s a pretty human and understandable reaction for a twenty year old guy to have, Tommy.”

He gave her a disgruntled look, “I know that and I’m not pissed at Ollie for that or anything else.” He paused, “Well, I’m a little pissed about him not picking up my Lucky Charms when he and Sara did the grocery shopping. Not all of us think of kale as a breakfast food and, despite what he claims, I am not a sugar addict.”

“You are kind of a sugar addict,” Felicity muttered. “And you don’t even eat the good candy like chocolate. You eat crap like those orange circus peanuts and root beer flavored hard candy. I swear your desk drawer looks like you mugged a bunch of trick or treaters.”

He narrowed his eyes at her and gave her a reproachful glare, quite a feat considering that A) she was technically right and B) he was naked, but still.

“If I’m pissed about anything,” he said ignoring her slam against his nostalgia for simpler times when things like root beer barrels, candy buttons, and pixie sticks brought joy to children everywhere, “it’s about what came after that. Yeah, you’re right; Ollie was a normal twenty-something year old screw up who didn’t know what he wanted—neither of us did—so he might’ve said that but he didn’t say it in a bad way. He said it because he thought he didn’t deserve to be a father, that he wasn’t good enough, and thought that I’d handle it better because,” he began ticking off his fingers, “I was studying to be a doctor and he’d already dropped out twice from two different colleges, I had my shit somewhat together and he didn’t—not even close, and I didn’t father a kid while cheating on my girlfriend. Mostly that was because I didn’t have a girlfriend, I just had random hook-ups, but he didn’t see it that way. He also followed that up by making plans _to_ get his act together, starting with telling his parents and Laurel then buckling down and being the best dad he could. He would’ve been a good dad, Felicity,” he said firmly. “Yeah, he was a fuck up, but he was willing to try and Moira and Samantha stole that from him. I was there the night he got the call about the miscarriage. Yeah, at first he played it off like he dodged a bullet but, about six shots in, he was crying like a baby over that kid. I think…” he sighed, “I think that’s when all of it went to hell; that moment. I honestly do. Everything from Sara, to the island; all of it happened because of that one lie.”

“Because you think Oliver would’ve grown up and never have gotten on the boat?” she asked uncertainly. 

“Maybe,” he admitted, “but also because of the whole situation with Sara and Laurel. He was going to end it with Laurel after he talked to his mom. He was putting it off, procrastinating as usual but, while he knew Laurel would forgive him for cheating, she wouldn’t get over him fathering a kid while supposedly dating her. That was a bridge too far. After Samantha ‘lost’ the baby though, his mom told him to forget about it and move on so he tried. He couldn’t do it though.” His eyebrows drew together as the memories of that year leading up to the sinking of the Gambit flooded his mind, “You know Ollie; guilt is his go-to and that didn’t start after the island. He was always a sensitive guy. That thing with Samantha ate at him. He blamed himself for not wanting the baby, like his not wanting to be a dad made the miscarriage happen. He blamed himself for keeping it a secret from Laurel.”

“He was kind of right to feel guilty for that one,” Felicity interrupted. At his rebuking expression she shrugged, “I’m sorry, Tommy, but the way he treated Laurel was abominable. I know he’s a different guy now, but do you even realize how big of a violation that was?”

“Ollie was a kid and he’s the victim here—“ he began only to have her cut him off.

“I get that; I do, but as much as I understand that Oliver was done wrong by both Moira and Samantha, I’m not talking about Oliver, I’m talking about Laurel,” she said firmly. “I didn’t know her but I can’t even begin to imagine what that was like for her; what it would be like to have someone I love cheat on me and get another girl pregnant. I can’t even wrap my head around it much less understand how she could keep taking him back. I’m not judging her,” she said quickly, “I’m speaking for myself. _I could not get past that_ , I just couldn’t, but to keep that a secret is even worse because it means that…” she shook her head. “That’s like the ultimate form of disrespect and then to follow that up by cheating with Sara?” Her brow furrowed at that, “I like Sara, I do, and I know karma paid them both back big time, but I find it very hard to believe that the Oliver we know now was ever that guy, you know?”

“That’s just it; he wasn’t that guy back then,” Tommy defended. “Yeah, he cheated on Laurel but it was a case of mutual—fucked-uped-ness. That was their thing; drama, break ups, then make up sex complete with an orchestral score from right out of a James Cameron movie. They built their whole relationship around it. Again, I’m not defending his cheating but, after the miscarriage, _that’s_ when he really went off the rails. His whole life fell apart that last year; the drinking got worse, the drugs got harder, the cheating…” he shook his head. “Even the thing about him dropping out of school the third time? Before that he was actually doing better. He was turning it around before that and _Moira_ is the one who suggested he transfer schools because she didn’t want to risk having anyone who knew Samantha telling him she was still pregnant. She said it was so he could get a fresh start but that’s why she did it,” he insisted. “After that though, Ollie gave up. He tried that last year but it didn’t matter so he stopped trying. Same thing with Laurel; he felt he wasn’t good enough for her so he slept with Sara because he knew it was unforgivable, just like him getting Samantha pregnant would be. He was basically begging someone to punish him for what he did.” He swallowed, “I’m mad as hell because Ollie still feels that way; like they kept William from him because he was a fuck up, that it was _his fault_ this happened. What I’m afraid of is that he’ll go over there and Samantha will tell him he doesn’t deserve to be a father and he’ll believe her. He doesn’t deserve that. He fucked up, yeah; but that’s still his kid, too.” 

She smiled at him, “Honey, I think you’re borrowing trouble here.”

“You think?” he asked uncertainly.

“Yeah, I do,” she said reaching up to comb her fingers through his hair. “You don’t know what’s going to happen and, yeah, you’re probably right and Samantha may lash out a little, but the fact that Oliver is the one making the decision to confront her and get to know his son means that he’s not that guy anymore. He’s stronger now and, while he needs his ‘wingman’ to have his back, he doesn’t need your anger, even if it’s not directed at him. You need to let that anger go because this is his fight, not yours, and if you keep fighting his battles then you’re no better than Moira,” she said pointedly. “Emotional support is one thing but you going in there threatening Samantha with lawyers and custody battles is something else entirely.”

He blanched at that, “You know about that?”

“That you called Jo and asked her for the name of the top family law attorney in the state?” she nodded. “It’s not your place to do that, honey. It’s Oliver’s decision and he has to handle this on his own.”

“You’re probably right,” he said reluctantly. “You know, you could always come with us to make sure I don’t do something stupid?”

“You’ll be fine; I have faith in you—in both of you,” she said cupping his cheek. “Besides, someone has to mind the store and if I leave town this close to the wedding, mom’s going to think we’re trying to elope and follow us,” she said wryly. “That poor kid is going to have enough to worry about without having to deal with his ‘Nana Donna’ screeching in his ear before kissing him all over .”

“That’s true,” Tommy said with a frown. “While I love your mom, that screeching in your ear thing gets old, fast.”

“Try growing up with it,” she said with a snort. “Another reason why I think I should sit this one out is because you guys are planning on just dropping in on her—which, again, is a bad idea,” she said meaningfully. “I still think Oliver should at least call first.”

“He doesn’t want to risk her hanging up on him or leaving town,” he said ruefully. “You can’t blame him for thinking that way since, yeah; his mom did basically run her out of town on a rail, plus the whole lying to him about his kid thing so, chances are, she won’t be looking forward to hearing from him out of the blue.”

“And she’ll somehow be more receptive if you guys just show up on her doorstep?” Felicity asked dubiously.

“No, but she can’t run if Ollie’s on the front porch and I’m guarding the back door,” he said then winced, “Not that us basically surrounding her house will help matters any, but still.”

“Your insane plan to corner this woman aside, the last thing Samantha will want is a bunch of strangers showing up on her doorstep—especially not one that’s a woman,” Felicity said reasonably. “She’s already going to be on guard so her first instinct will be to assume I’m Oliver’s new girlfriend or something and it will make her feel like he’s dropping in out of the blue to collect his kid and take him away to this readymade family, leaving her in the dust. Her second instinct, after he tells her that I am most certainly _not_ his girlfriend, will be that, as another woman, I’m judging her for A) having a one night stand and B) getting pregnant by said one night stand. While I would never do that to another woman, trust me; it’s best I sit this one out and stay here to run the company for a day or so while avoiding my mom and Thea.”

“How do you know that’s what she’ll—“ At the look on his fiancée’s face Tommy grimaced, “Okay, right; you have the girl parts and I just have stupid man parts therefore you know everything and I know nothing,” he conceded.

“Good boy!” she said pursing her lips and giving him a playful kiss. “You’re coming along so well! I’m so proud of you.”

“Ha ha,” he said drolly. “I get what you’re saying but I still wish you were coming along,” he admitted. “Ollie’s going to be a complete misery of guilt and depression after this thing and I’m not even allowed to get him drunk anymore. The best we can do is take a couple of extra tramadol and shoot each other up with lidocaine.”

“Don’t let him take the lidocaine with him,” Felicity warned with a serious expression. “He’ll use the whole bottle.”

Tommy grimaced, “I know and Dig and I both got onto him about that shit. I warned him that he easily could’ve gone into a seizure or it might’ve stopped his heart if he accidently hit a vein.” He shook his head, “This is going to suck. I think I’d rather go back to Lian Yu than Central City right now and you know how much I love that place.”

“It could be worse, you could be stuck here while mom and Thea do the whole bridezilla thing,” she reminded him. “Lian Yu is ten times better than that and at least there we get to rattle Isabel’s cage. That was Thea’s favorite part, by the way. She said seeing Isabel in a pumpkin orange jumpsuit with split ends made her whole year,” she said dryly.

“True,” he conceded, “By the way, can you be a bridezilla if you aren’t the actual bride?” he asked furrowing his brow.

“I don’t know about the rest of the world, but if you’re Donna Smoak or Thea Queen the answer is ‘yes’,” she said drolly. “They’re whipping each other up into such a frenzy it’s like Wedding-palooza out there so stop tempting me with a trip to Central City because I will gladly go, babymama drama or no, and then mom and Thea will hunt us down and bake us into a wedding cake.”

Tommy grinned then leaned forward to press a tender kiss on her lips, “Have I told you today how much I love you and that I can’t wait for Wedding-palooza?”

“Maybe a few times,” she hummed as she wrapped her arms around his neck, careful not to jostle his arm that was still in a sling, “And I love you, too, but what _I’m_ looking forward to is Honeymoon-palooza.”

He lifted an eyebrow at that, “I could give you a preview of Honeymoon-palooza if you like. Front row center even,” he said with a naughty look as he flung off the sling that was in his way and eased her down onto the mattress.

“What about your shoulder?” she asked him as he tugged off her shirt one handed.

“It’s called ‘physical therapy’,” he told her before tossing it on the floor.

“Physical therapy, huh? And what about your packing?” she asked him as he began to place sucking kisses against her throat.

He looked up at the still mostly empty duffle on the bed the kicked it off before getting back to business, “Screw packing; I’ll do it tomorrow. Right now I have more important things to do.”

Felicity laughed as he growled playfully before attacking her neck once more, “And what are those very important things you need to do, Mr. Merlyn?”

“I could tell you, soon-to-be Mrs. Merlyn, but I’d much rather show you instead,” he said with a grin before doing just that.

***

Tommy snapped out of his reverie when the door to the house opened and a little boy who looked _exactly_ like Ollie did at that age came bounding down the stairs and made a beeline for the sandbox. As he started playing with his dump trucks, Samantha stepped outside with a cup of coffee in her hand and sat down on the porch swing to watch him, a contented smile on her face.

He heard Oliver gasp and turned to him just as the other man’s eyes began to redden but no tears fell. Ollie was never a big crier but he could tell that he was barely keeping them in. Hell, just looking at that kid made _him_ want to cry.

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this today,” Oliver said again, his eyes locked on William. “This was a mistake; we should go.”

Tommy tramped down his annoyance with the other man and tried to focus on what Felicity told him, that Oliver needed his support, not his anger.

“Look, if you want to leave, we’ll leave,” he said after a minute. “Say the word and we’ll cancel the appointment with the doctor and head home. We can use that surgeon with the office in Ivy Town instead.”

Oliver looked at him uncertainly, his eyes suffused with shame, “I know you think I’m a deadbeat and a coward for—“

“No! Ollie, no,” he said cutting him off. “Look…” he paused. “Okay, if we lived regular nine to five lives then, yeah, I’d be kicking your ass and telling you to get out of the car and sack up because you’re a parent now and you don’t have the luxury of pussying out, but that’s not the life we lead,” he said firmly. “Right now that kid doesn’t know you and you don’t know him. You know he exists though and so do we so we can protect him; all of us: Me, you, Dig, Roy, Felicity, Sara, Thea. We’re all in this fight and we all want to keep William safe. Like the saying goes, it takes a village, man, and your village is armed to the fucking teeth,” he said with a grin. “We can keep tabs on William from a distance. Felicity can make it so no one ever finds out about him or Samantha. If you think that being part of his life will put him in the crosshairs of guys like Slade then—“ he made a cutting gesture and pointed towards the highway, “Let’s go! We’ll go home, have Felicity figure out a way to fake a rich dead relative to make sure he never has to worry about money, and never broach the subject again.”

“But?” Oliver prompted.

Tommy sighed, “I just don’t want you to walk away because you think you aren’t good enough to be his dad, Ollie.”

“Walking away hardly makes me a dad; you above all people should know that,” he said with a dark look.

“Maybe, maybe not,” he said with a half-hearted shrug. “A year or so ago I would’ve said that it was the wrong move but time changes things. My mom’s death changed my dad, something inside of him broke and, as a consequence, he left to join that freaky League of Assassins Sara used to belong to. From what she said, they were the ones who turned him into a monster so, the way I see it, the best thing he ever did for me was leave me behind. I don’t know if you ever did the math, but Malcolm left me twice; once after my mom died and when he came back and slept with your mom.” Oliver’s brow furrowed at that as realization dawned and he grinned wryly, “Yeah, that’s right; Malcolm didn’t officially come back until Thea was a couple of months old so that means he returned at some point, presumably to take me back to Nanda Parbat since Nyssa told me that was the plan. She said that, when she was a little girl, Malcolm told her he was bringing me to her so I could be her student and so she could train me as part of her honor guard.”

“You didn’t tell me that,” Oliver said in surprise.

“You were a little busy with Slade and were worried about the fact that Isabel tried to get Detective Dickhead Daily to have your mom killed in lock up. Needless to say, yeah,” he said with a grimace. “Malcolm was going to take me back and let them turn me into an assassin but something stopped him. I don’t know if it was Moira or if his conscience came back online, but he left and when he came back a year later, it explains why he treated me the way he did. He promised Nyssa a student and Ra’s a new assassin and failed to deliver. According to her this damaged his position in the league and he was seen as too sentimental so Ra’s ‘released him’ because he was too ‘tied to his past’,” he huffed. “Long story short, abandoning me that second time was probably the only good thing Malcolm ever did for me. While you’re not like my dad, I get why you’d want to keep William out of this life,” Tommy said quietly. “It’s your choice, Ollie; just don’t make your decision based on what other people think or because Slade or your mom got in your head and convinced you that you’re a monster. You’re not a monster, you’re a hero,” he said firmly. “And that kid is damn lucky to have his own personal superhero looking out for him.”

Oliver turned back to the house and let out a shaky breath. They sat there for several minutes before a look of profound sadness but firm resolve settled over him, “We should go,” he said quietly.

“You’re sure?” Tommy asked carefully.

Oliver nodded, “I want to be part of William’s life and someday I hope I will, but right now I can’t,” he admitted. “I need time to figure out how to be both the Arrow and Oliver again. To tell you the truth, I don’t know if I can, but William deserves to have a happy life.” He nodded at the little boy who was now running around the yard and yelling out a greeting to some of his friends as they drove up on bikes. “He deserves a chance to have friends and not wonder if his dad is coming home or worry about psychopaths targeting him because of what I do.”

“You could quit?” Tommy suggested. “Give up the hood and just be a dad?”

He shook his head, “The city needs me and, as much as I hate to say it, William doesn’t; not as a dad anyway.” He looked at the little boy once more before turning to Tommy, “I saw the report Felicity did on Samantha and she’s doing a great job with him. Maybe in a couple of years I can come back but right now, with the life I lead, I can’t have…this,” he swallowed. 

Tommy met his gaze steadily, “You can have anything you want, Ollie, but if you’re not ready then I’ll support you and so will everyone else on the team.”

“Thea’s going to be pissed,” he huffed.

“Thea will understand,” Tommy said confidently. “Now, are we going back to the hotel then to the airport, or are we staying for the doctor’s appointment after all because, as much as I want to be back home with my girl, I’m really not looking forward to being glitter bombed again.”

“Glitter bombed?” the other man repeated slowly.

He sighed, “Donna showed us the new updated wedding invitations we had made because of the change of venue and when you open them they explode in glitter.”

Oliver blinked at that, “Seriously?”

He nodded, “It went everywhere. I was picking it out of my teeth and everything. Which reminds me, when you open your invitation, make sure your mouth is closed.”

“She actually sent them out?” he asked as he turned over the engine and slowly pulled away from the curb, giving the little boy and his friends one last longing look.

Tommy, playing along, chuckled, “Of course she did, have you met Donna?”

“You have a point,” he said with an answering grin even though Tommy could tell he was still in pain and would be for a while to come.

However, he also knew that they’d survive this. Ollie was nothing if not a survivor and, even though he wanted to march up to that house and fight his friend’s battle for him, Felicity was right; Ollie didn’t need him to be a hero. No, he needed to be his own hero and Tommy just needed to be his friend, and that was enough for now.

Oliver gave him an amused look, “You know, other than the fact that your mother-in-law is sleeping with both my ex-stepdad and my ex-girlfriend’s father who hates me, I really, really like her.” 

“I do, too,” Tommy said contentedly. “According to Donna it’s because we’ve been ‘Smoaked’. Apparently it’s her superpower.”

“I could’ve done without seeing Lance in his underwear though,” Oliver said with a look of mild distaste.

Tommy snorted, “You should’ve been there the other day. Trust me, I’d rather see Lance _in_ his underwear than out of it any day. Especially in the room where we eat.”

Oliver pointed his finger at him with a warning look, “Never tell me that story.”

“Whatever you say, buddy,” Tommy grinned. “Whatever you say.”

 

The End.  (grin)

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, and if you don't like what I wrote then have the girl balls to put it in the comments. I won't delete you or grass you out. Instead I'll answer your comments--all of them.


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